PRINCETON,  N.  J. 

j  Shelf 

BX  5133    .M37  G82 
Magee,  W.   C.  1821-1891. 
Growth  in  grace 

Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2015 


https://archive.org/details/growthingraceothOOmage 


GROWTH  IN  GRACE 


IVOR  AS  BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR. 


The  Gospel  and  the  Ag:e. 

Sermons  on  Special  Occasions. 

Fifth  Thousand.    Post  8vo.,  7s.  6d. 

Christ  the  Light  of  all  Scripture. 

And  other  Sermons. 

Just  published.    Post  8vo.,  7s.  6d. 

Addresses  and  Speeches. 

Post  8vo.,  7s.  6d.  [In  the  Press. 


GROWTH  IN  GRACE 


3nb  oiljrv  3?nmons 


BTf   THE  LATE 


w.  c/magee  d.d. 

LOBD  AltCHBISIIOP  OF  YORK,  AUTHOR  OF  "  THE  OOSPEL  AND  THE  AGE 


CHARLES  S.  MA  GEE 

l!:iiri.ster-at  Law 


NEW  FORK 
THOMAS    WHIT  TAKES 
2  &  3,  BIBLE  BOUSE 
1892 


NOTE. 


Voices  from  the  grave  of  the  Church  of  England's  most 
eloquent  man  will  be  listened  to. 

His  famous  Parliamentary  Speech  was  ranked  by  an 
experienced  capable  critic  among  the  three  great  speeches 
of  the  century.  He  had  the  trust  of  the  Laity;  lie  had 
the  spirit  and  the  aims  of  a  Statesman  ;  he  kept  for  the, 
Church  the  flower  of  h  is  powers. 

They  v;ho  knew  him  in  the  warmth  of  his  private 
life  knew  the  brilliant  audacity  with  which  he  ivoidd 
swiftly  pursue  some  witty  or  humorous  thought,  and 
then  suddenly  land  you  on  some  serious  shore — per- 
haps not  without  a  half-tear. 

The  wit  which  sometimes  concentrated  a  sermon  in  a 
jest  or  an  apophthegm  ran  out  in  his  preaching  into  a 


vi  NOTE. 

stream  of  epigram  as  clear  as  it  was  copious.  In  his 
preaching,  the  wit,  the  common  sense,  the  pathos  were  as 
real  as  in  his  talk. 

The  strength  of  his  opinions  was  heightened  by  the 
candour  with  which  lie  was  willing  and  able  to  recon- 
sider special  deductions  from  them. 

In  the  jiosition  to  which  all  Engla  nd.  so  lately  called 
him,  he  re-dedicated  himself  (I  cannot  forget  his  solemn 
words)  to  work  for  the  good  of  the  whole  Church  and  for 
the  social  welfare  of  the  People.  Then  in  a  moment 
•'  God's  finger  touched  him  and  he  slept." 

In  these  sermons,  which  lie  never  published,  many 
who  have  delighted  in  one  or  other  of  them,  and  many 
more  ivho  had  never  the  opportunity  of  delighting  in  the 
mellow  ring  of  that  free  and  noble  speech,  will  rejoice 
to  learn  something  of  its  wisdom,  its  vigour,  its 
exactitude  and  its  tenderness. 

Emv :  Cantuar  : 


PREFACE. 


In  selecting  the  following  sermons  for  publication 
I  have  confined  myself  to  those  which  have  been 
revised,  to  some  extent  at  least,  by  the  author. 
They  do  not  contain,  it  is  impossible  that  they 
should  contain,  the  ipsissima  verba  of  the  preacher, 
for,  as  he  himself  has  pointed  out  in  the  preface 
to  "  The  Gospel  and  the  Age  " — "  the  preacher 
of  what  are  called  extempore  sermons — that  is  to 
say,  sermons  not  read  from  manuscript,  but  deli- 
vered from  brief  notes — cannot  reproduce  them  in 
print  unless  they  happen  to  have  been  taken  down 
at  the  time  by  a  reporter.  Such  reports  can  hardly 
ever  be  verbatim,  and  are  for  the  most  part  more  or 
less  imperfect  and  inaccurate.    The  process  of  re- 


viii  PREFACE. 

vising  them  and  of  supplying  their  omissions,  with 
a  view  to  publication,  is  not  an  easy  one,  even  when 
attempted  after  the  lapse  of  a  few  days — still  less  so 
after  that  of  years  ;  and  its  results  are  seldom  quite 
satisfactory  either  to  the  author  or  the  reader.  A 
sermon  thus  patched  and  mended  has  neither  the 
freshness  and  point  of  the  extempore  nor  the  smooth- 
ness and  sustained  thought  of  the  written  compo- 
sition. It  is  neither  a  religious  speech,  which  the 
extempore  sermon  ought  to  be — nor  a  religious 
essay,  which  the  written  sermon  ought  to  be ;  and 
it  runs  the  risk  of  uniting  the  defects  of  both  styles 

with  the  merits  of  neither  " 

This  fact,  which  rendered  it  difficult  for  the 
preacher  himself  to  give  to  the  world  the  sermons 
as  originally  delivered,  makes  it  impossible  for  an 
editor  to  do  so.  Nevertheless,  though  I  feel  that 
there  is  much  in  this  volume  that  the  author  would 
have  wished  corrected,  some  passages  even  which 
may  misrepresent  what  was  actually  said,  still  I 
have  felt  it  due  to  his  memory  and  to  the  public  to 
utilise  what  material  I  possess,  and  to  publish  what 
must  be  imperfect,  and  may  be  inaccurate,  rather 
than  suppress  what  is  valuable. 


PREFACE.  ix 

Those  who  have  heard  the  Archbishop  preach 
will  realise  how  far  the  written  words  fall  short  of 
the  spoken  ones,  and  how  much  is  now  lost  by  the 
fact  that  Dr.  Magce's  sermons  were  purely  extem- 
pore. 

C.  S.  M. 


CONTENTS. 


I.  PAGE 

Growth  in  Grace  1 

Preached  in  the  Church  of  St.  Mary-the-Virgin,  Oxford,  on 
Wednesday,  March  25th,  1863. 


II. 

Foretelling  and  Forth-Telling      .      .      .  .23 

Preached  in  Peterborough  Cathedral,  January  1st,  1871. 
III. 

Christianity  and  Free-Thought      .      .      .  .55 

Preached  in  Norwich  Cathedral,  March  28th,  1871. 
IV. 

Christianity  and  Scepticism  79 

Preached  in  Norwich  Cathedral,  March  29th,  1871. 
V. 

Christianity  and  Faith  105 

Preached  in  Norwich  Cathedral,  March  30th,  1871. 

VI. 

The  Demonstration  of  the  Spirit   .      .       .  .129 

Preached  in  Norwich  Cathedral,  December  12th,  1871. 
VII. 

The  Gift  of  Tongues  at  Pentecost       .      .  .157 

Preached  in  Canterbury  Cathedral,  May  28th,  1872. 


xii 


CONTENTS. 


VIII.  PAGE 

The  Church  and  the  World  177 

Preached  at  Windsor,  November  30th,  ISSi. 

IX. 

St.  Paul  on  Socialism  in  the  Church  of  Corinth  193 

Preached  in  Whitehall  Chapel,  March  11th,  1888. 


X. 

Christ  in  Us  221 

Preached  at  Windsor,  March  16th,  1890. 

XI. 

The  Life  of  Man  and  the  Glory  of  God      .      .  235 

Preached  on  the  Occasion  of  the  Restoration  of  Peterborough 
Cathedral,  October  1-lth,  1890. 

XII. 

The  Christian  Ideal  of  Human  Life      .      .       .  257 

XIII. 

The  Law  of  the  Old  Testament  and  the  Law  of 

the  New  269 

Preached  at  Windsor,  November  30th,  1890. 

XIV. 

■"Give  an  Account  of  thy  Stewardship"      .      .  283 


Preached  in  Peterborough  Cathedral,  March  8th,  1891. 


GROWTH  IN  GRACE. 


GROWTH  IN  GRACE. 


Preached  in  the  Church  of  St.  Mary-the-Virgin,  Oxford,  ox 
Wednesday,  March  25,  1S63. 

' '  But  grow  in  grace,  and  in  the  knowledge  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour, 
Jesus  Christ." — 2  Peter  m.  18. 

THE  Christian  life,  like  the  Christian  faith  from  which 
it  springs,  is  a  great  mystery.  It  is,  indeed,  but  a 
part  of  that  one  great  "  mystery  of  godliness  "  which  that 
faith  reveals ;  for  it,  too,  is  a  manifestation  of  "  God  in 
the  flesh."  Every  renewed  man  is  a  real  revelation  of 
God.  "  God  dwelleth  "  in  him  and  "  he  in  God  ; "  and 
the  Divine  and  indwelling  Spirit  reveals  Himself  in  and 
by  him  to  the  world.  "  I  in  them  and  Thou  in  Me,  that 
the  world  may  believe  that  Thou  hast  sent  Me,"  are  the 
words  in  which  our  Lord  sets  forth  the  deep  mystery  of 
the  Divine  life  in  the  soul  of  man.  Not  in  figure  or  in 
metaphor,  but  in  truest  and  most  awful  reality  are  we 
made,  by  our  living  union  with  Christ,  "  partakers  of  a 
Divine  nature," — a  nature  which  displays  itself  in  words 
and  works  that  are  human,  and  yet  that  are  also  super- 
human,— in  a  life  which  is  that  of  a  man,  and  yet  which 
is  life  in  God  and  with  God. 

Such  a  life  is  a  great  mystery.  It  presents,  though  in 
an  infinitely  lower  degree,  that  difficulty  which  the  idea 
of  the  Incarnation  presents  to  our  minds,  the  difficulty 
of  conceiving  of  any  real  union  of  the  human  and  the 


4 


GROWTH  IN  GRACE. 


Divine  ;  any  union,  that  is,  of  God  and  Man,  in  which  God 
shall  still  be  truly  and  perfectly  God,  and  Man  truly  and 
perfectly  Man.  However  we  may  succeed  in  defining  this 
idea  in  words,  we  find  it  all  but  impossible  to  realize  it  in 
thought.  The  moment  we  attempt  to  do  so  it  escapes  from 
us,  and  we  find  ourselves  excluding  the  thought  of  what  is 
human,  that  we  may  realize  the  idea  of  the  Divine  ;  or  ex- 
cluding the  thought  of  the  Divine,  that  we  may  realize  the 
idea  of  what  is  human.  We  never  can  contemplate  long 
that  "  strange  sight,"  humanity  indwelt  by  the  Divine 
glory,  without  imagining  that  the  inferior  nature  is  con- 
sumed, or  at  least  in  some  measure  lost  in  the  higher,  the 
finite  in  the  Infinite,  the  creature  in  the  Creator,  or  with- 
out being  tempted  to  doubt  if  the  glory  that  we  see  be 
indeed  the  presence  of  the  very  God  of  Heaven. 

Such  we  know  has  been  the  history  of  the  doctrine  of 
the  Incarnation.  We  know  how,  ever  as  men  iusisted  on 
the  truth  of  our  Lord's  Divinity,  they  were  almost  insen- 
sibly led  into  denying,  or  forgetting,  the  truth  of  His 
humanity ;  or  as  they  asserted  the  reality  of  His  human 
nature,  they  were  led  into  denial  or  forgetfuliiess  of  His 
Divine  nature.  And  as  with  the  idea  of  the  Incarnate 
Word,  so  with  the  idea  of  the  written  Word:  here,  too,  we 
have  a  union  of  the  Divine  and  of  the  human,  a  Word 
that  is  God's  Word,  and  yet  that  is  also  the  word  of  man. 
And  we  know  only  too  well  how  some  have  insisted  on 
the  Divine  authorship  of  this  Word,  until  it  ceased  for 
them  to  have  in  any  real  sense  a  human  authorship,  until 
Prophet  and  Apostle  were  no  longer  men  "  moved  by  the 
Holy  Ghost,"  but  masks  through  which  passed  a  voice  not 
their  own.  And  we  know  how  others,  revolting  against 
this  false  conception  of  it,  have  insisted  on  the  evident 
proofs  of  its  human  authorship,  until  they  have  come  to 
deny  that  God  is  in  any  real  and  distinctive  sense  its 


GKOWTH  IN  GRACE. 


5 


Author  too.  And  as  with  the  idea  of  the  incarnate  Christ 
and  the  inspired  Word,  so  with  the  idea  of  the  Christian 
life.  It,  too,  as  we  have  seen,  has  its  Divine  and  its  human 
element,  and  it  in  like  manner  has  heen  distorted  by  one- 
sided attempts  to  bring  out  either  of  these  ideas  to  the 
exclusion  of  the  other.  We  know  how  one  school  of 
writers  dwell  almost  exclusively  on  the  Divine  and  super- 
natural aspect  of  this  life,  until  its  natural  and  human 
aspect  vanishes  almost  entirely  from  their  descriptions  of 
it ;  until  it  becomes  an  utterly  unnatural  and  unreal  state, 
in  which  man  is  seen  the  mere  passive  instrument  of  a 
creating  and  controlling  Omnipotence. 

By  such  teachers  the  science  of  the  Divine  life  is  and 
must  be  almost  entirely  neglected.  They  treat  mainly  of 
its  first  beginnings,  or  its  more  marked  and  striking  crises 
when  the  Divine  power  is  most  startlingly  manifested,  and 
the  soul  may  be  seen  stirred  to  its  depths  by  the  power  of 
the  Spirit.  They  would  fain  dwell  always  on  the  Mount 
of  Transfiguration,  or  in  the  chamber  of  Pentecost,  where 
the  Divine  Presence  is  seen  in  rays  of  glory  or  in  tongues 
of  fire;  but  they  seem  to  shun  the  lower  paths  of  daily  life, 
in  which  the  Christian  seems  to  walk  only  with  the  com- 
mon light  upon  his  path,  and  to  speak  the  common  speech 
of  men.  And  the  natural  and  necessary  result  of  this 
exaggerated  and  one-sided  statement  of  the  great  doctrines 
of  grace  has  been  as  violent  and  one-sided  a  reaction 
against  them.  Men  have  wearied  of  what  seemed  to  them 
the  unreality  of  such  a  religion  ;  they  have  sickened  of 
what  they  call  its  cant  expressions,  in  which  every  word 
seems  to  lose  its  natural  meaning  and  acquire  some  strange 
new  one ;  they  have  insisted  that  man  is  something  more 
than  a  machine ;  they  have  claimed  for  his  reason  and  for 
his  heart  their  place  in  the  work  of  his  own  reformation  ; 
they  have  asserted  for  human  life  in  this  world  its  real 


6 


GROWTH  IX  GRACE. 


worth  and  dignity.  But  they  have  gone  beyond  all 
this,  and,  asserting  the  human  side  of  Christianity,  they 
have  denied  the  Divine.  While  proclaiming  that  the 
Christian  life  is  not  iomatural,  they  have  made  it  no 
longer  supernatural ;  they  insist  that  there  is  nothing 
in  religion  really  true  or  valuable  but  its  moral  precepts 
and  its  idea  of  God ;  they  maintain  there  is  nothing  that 
is  real  in  its  duties  that  is  not  within  the  reach  of  all  men ; 
that  the  heathen  stands  in  this  respect  on  a  level  with  the 
Christian,  and  that  we  have  but  to  obey  the  better  in- 
stincts of  our  common  nature,  and  we  need  no  new  birth, 
no  higher  nature,  no  divine  grace. 

Now  against  both  these  extreme  views,  each  the  exagge- 
ration of  a  great  truth,  and  each  therefore  a  most  danger- 
ous error,  the  Word  of  God  gives  its  clear  and  repeated 
testimony.  In  every  word  which  tells  us  of  our  state  of 
spiritual  death,  and  of  our  absolute  need  of  a  resurrection 
and  a  new  birth  ;  in  every  word  which  describes  that  new 
birth  as  the  work  of  the  quickening  Spirit  who  is  "Lord 
and  giver  of  life;"  in  every  word  which  describes  the 
newness  of  that  spiritual  life  in  its  irreconcilable  opposi- 
tion to  the  old  and  fleshly  nature  which  could  therefore 
never  have  given  it  birth  ;  in  every  word  which  ascribes 
the  first  motions  of  all  that  is  holy  in  us — the  inspiration 
of  every  good  thought,  the  awakening  of  every  holy  desire, 
the  suggestion  of  every  holy  purpose — to  an  Almighty 
Spirit  dwelling  in  our  spirit,  and  working  in  us  both  to 
will  and  do  of  His  good  pleasure ;  in  every  word  which 
describes  that  new  life  as  sustained  by  heavenly  and  mys- 
tic food,  not  fed  "  by  bread  alone,  but  by  every  word  that 
proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God ; "  in  every  word 
which  describes  the  Christian  lif  e  as  a  progress  from  victory 
to  victory  over  the  world,  and  the  flesh,  and  the  devil,  all 
unattainable  by  the  natural  powers  of  the  greatest  mac,  all 


GROWTH  IN  GRACE. 


7 


attainable  by  the  weakest  and  lowliest  possessor  of  tk/ls 
spiritual  nature  ;  in  all  these  descriptions  of  this  new  life, 
from  its  birth  to  its  glorious  and  completed  manifestation, 
the  "Word  of  God  sets  forth  for  us  an  existence  to  which 
mere  human  nature,  unaided  and  unchanged,  could  never 
reach,  of  which  it  could  never  even  conceive ;  it  testifies 
of  this  new  creation,  as  of  the  old,  that  it  "  declares  the 
glory  of  God  and  sheweth  His  handiwork." 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  equally  clear,  equally  full  is 
the  testimony  of  Scripture  to  the  human  and  the  natural 
aspect  of  this  Christian  life.  In  every  word  which  appeals 
to  our  human  reason,  and  pleads  with  our  human  affec- 
tions, and  addresses  itself  to  our  human  sympathies ;  in 
every  word  which  exhorts  us  to  "work  out  our  own  salva- 
tion with  fear  and  trembling,"  to  "give  all  diligence  to  add 
to  our  faith  "  every  needed  grace  ;  in  every  exhortation  to 
heed  and  watchfulness  against  all  spiritual  enemies ;  in 
every  call  to  the  use  of  ordinances  ;  in  every  institution 
and  appointment  of  Christ's  Church  that  makes  us  depen- 
dent for  such  ordinances  on  human  ministrations ;  in  every 
warning  against  neglect  of  these,  and,  above  all,  in  ever)' 
warning  against  "resisting,"  "grieving,"  "quenching," 
that  very  Spirit  of  God  which  works  in  us  with  all  the 
power  of  Omnipotence  ;  in  every  such  word  which  seems 
to  make  us  in  part  authors  of  our  own  salvation,  and  alto- 
gether authors  of  our  own  destruction,  which  sets  forth 
the  awful  power  of  the  human  will  to  shape  the  destiny 
of  man  for  good  or  evil,  does  Scripture  testify  that  the 
supernatural  element  of  our  new  life  does  not  overpower 
or  destroy  the  natural,  and  that  though  God  works  in 
every  renewed  man,  yet  that  every  such  man  works  also 
with  God. 

Such  opposite  statements  are  for  the  most  part  scattered 
throughout  Scripture  without  any  attempt  to  harmonize 


8 


GROWTH  IN  GRACE. 


them,  or  to  fit  them  into  any  one  logical  system.  They 
are  given  us  separately,  that  we  may  use  them  each  in 
their  turn  as  we  need  them  ;  calling  to  our  help  in  houi'S 
of  despondency  all  words  that  tell  us  that  it  is  the  Most 
High  God  who  is  our  Redeemer  ;  calling  to  mind  in  our 
hours  of  carelessness  and  presumption  all  words  that  speak 
of  our  salvation  as  a  gift  from  Him  that  we  may  lose 
or  cast  away. 

But  there  are  passages  in  Scripture  which  bring  to- 
gether in  one  both  these  views  of  the  Christian  life,  which 
express  at  once  its  supernatural  and  its  natural,  its  human 
and  its  divine  elements.  Such  a  passage,  for  instance,  as 
that  in  which  we  are  bidden  to  "  work  out  our  own 
salvation,"  because  "  it  is  God  that  worketh  in  us  to  will 
and  to  do  of  His  good  pleasure."  And  such  a  twofold 
statement  is  given  us  in  our  text. 

When  the  Apostle  bids  us  "grow  in  grace,"  he  tells  us, 
on  the  one  hand,  that  our  life  is  from  above ;  that  to  live 
it  we  need  a  grace — a  free  and  gracious  gift  from  God — 
a  communication  to  us  of  "  that  thing  which  by  nature 
we  cannot  have  :  "  but  then  he  bids  us  see  that  we 
"  grow  in  this  grace,"  that  is,  he  tells  us  that  this  grace, 
though  miraculous  in  its  origin,  is  yet  subject  to  natural 
laws  in  its  progress.  It  has  its  growth,  its  normal  and 
real  development :  a  growth  which  we  may  help  by  our 
care,  or  hinder  by  our  neglect,  or  destroy  by  our  injurious 
treatment.  The  analogy  here  to  the  growth  of  the  plant 
or  the  animal  is  perfect.  The  life  of  any  living  thing  we 
cannot  give.  The  vital  principle  that  dwells  in  it  is  not 
of  our  creation.  It  has  God  alone  for  its  author.  But 
once  that  life  is  begun,  once  it  manifests  itself,  as  all  life 
must,  by  growth,  then  we  have  power  over  it  to  shape, 
direct  and  improve,  or  to  distort  and  dwarf  or  destroy. 
True  it  is  that  the  creative  power  that  gave  it  being  at  the 


GROWTH  IN  GRACE. 


9 


first  sustains  it  in  all  its  after  growth  ;  that  without  this 
it  would  not  grow  :  yet  it  is  also  true  that  the  supplies  of 
food  or  culture  that  are  necessary  to  its  growth  are  left  to 
us  to  give  or  to  withhold. 

And  this  analogy,  so  frequent  in  Scripture,  between 
the  life  of  the  soul  and  that  of  the  plant  suggests  an 
answer  to  the  objection  that  is  frequently  brought  by 
those  who  insist  upon  the  irresistible  character  of  Divine 
grace,  that  it  is  surely  impossible  for  man  to  resist  or 
defeat  the  purposes  of  God ;  that  if  His  Holy  Spirit  have 
begun  a  work  on  our  spirits,  it  cannot  be  that  we  should 
have  power  to  prevent  the  completion  of  that  work. 
Those  who  so  speak  forget  that  the  same  might  be  said  of 
many  another  work  of  God.  Every  seed  that  He  has 
created  is  made  and  designed  especially  to  grow  and  to  bring 
forth  fruit  after  its  kind.  And  yet  we  have  the  power  to 
spoil  this  work,  to  frustrate  apparently  this  design  of  God. 
The  plant  which  He  made  to  grow  we  can  prevent  from 
growing.  The  fruit  which,  according  to  His  plan,  it 
ought  to  have  borne,  we  can  say  it  shall  never  bear.  And 
in  both  cases  the  answer  to  this  seeming  difficulty  is  the 
same.  It  is  true  that  God  works  in  the  life  of  the  seed 
as  in  that  of  the  soul.  It  is  also  true  that  He  has  been 
pleased  to  set  such  bounds  to  the  manner  of  His  work- 
ing that  we  may  help  or  hinder  the  growth  of  either. 
It  is  not  we  who  are  in  either  case  stronger  than  God. 
It  is  God  who  has  in  His  original  design  left  these  limits 
within  which  our  power  may  be  exerted,  and  within 
which  His  will  shall  not  overmaster  ours. 

But  if  the  progress  of  our  spiritual  life  depends  so 
largely  upon  ourselves,  if  we  are  responsible  for  our 
growth  or  our  decline  in  grace,  then  it  is  all  important 
for  us  to  have  some  standard  by  which  we  may  measure 
this  growth  or  this  decline,  some  conception,  that  is,  of 


10 


GROWTH  IX  GRACE. 


what  this  life  should  be  in  its  perfection.  Ever}' life  tends 
to  complete  itself  according  to  its  own  nature,  tends  to 
realise  the  true  and  perfect  form  of  itself ;  and  unless  we 
know  what  that  form  should  be,  we  cannot  know  how 
near  it  approaches  or  how  far  it  falls  short  of  this. 

AYhere,  then,  is  the  perfect  life  by  which  we  may 
measure  our  imperfections  ?  Where  is  that  form  to 
which  all  our  growth  should  assimilate  us  ?  You  do  not 
need,  brethren,  to  be  told  where  we  are  to  find  the 
example  of  a  perfect  life.  We  know  that  one  such,  and 
one  alone,  stands  out  among  all  the  records  of  our  race 
unstained  by  sin,  undimmed  by  imperfection ;  the  life  of 
Him  who  "did  no  sin,"  and  in  whose  mouth  there  was 
"no  guile;"  the  "beloved  Son,"  in  whom  His  Father 
was  "  well  pleased."  And  we  know  that  this  life  is  the 
ideal  and  the  type  of  our  own.  It  is  to  this  image,  fault- 
less and  glorious  as  it  is,  that  we  are  "  predestined  to  be 
conformed ; "  it  is  to  the  fulness  of  the  height  of  the 
stature  of  Christ  Jesus,  high  as  it  rises  above  all  human 
excellence,  that  we  are  all  yet  to  attain.  To  be  like  Him 
in  all  things,  "grace  for  grace,"  to  have  His  character 
fully  formed  in  us,  this  is  the  perfection  to  which  our 
Christian  life  ever  tends,  and  which  at  last  it  is  to  reach. 
This  perfection  is  not  indeed  fully  revealed  to  us  ;  "it 
doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be  ;"  that  last  develop- 
ment of  our  life,  when  grace  shall  pass  into  glory,  is  yet 
hidden  from  our  sight.  But  we  know  that  all  the  glory 
of  it  shall  consist  in  its  likeness  to  Him.  "  We  shall  be 
like  Him,  for  we  shall  see  Him  as  He  is."  Our  growth 
in  grace,  then,  is  nothing  else  than  our  increasing  like- 
ness to  Christ.  To  know  if  we  are  so  growing,  we  have 
but  to  compare  our  life  with  His,  to  see  how  much  of  His 
Spirit  dwells  in  us,  how  far  "the  mind  that  is  in  us"  is 
the  "  mind  of  Christ ; "  to  see  how  far  we  love  what  He 


GROWTH  IN  GRACE. 


11 


loved,  hate  what  He  hated,  desire  what  He  desired ;  to 
see  how  far  we  can  enter  into  that  fellowship  with  Him 
which  can  only  arise  from  increasing  likeness  to  Him  : 
how  far  we  can  understand  and  know  Him,  as  kindred 
natures  alone  can  understand  and  know  each  other ;  how 
far  we  have  been  baptized  with  His  baptism,  drunk  of 
His  cup,  shared  in  His  death,  and  know  the  fellowship  of 
His  sufferings  and  the  power  of  His  resurrection.  It  is 
only  by  such  comparison  of  ourselves  with  Christ,  our 
great  example,  that  we  can  learn  how  far  we  are  growing 
in  grace.  All  other  comparisons  of  ourselves  with  others, 
or  with  our  past  selves,  are  uncertain  and  dangerous. 
The  standard  of  comparison  in  either  case  is  so  low  that 
it  is  only  too  easy  for  us  to  flatter  ourselves  that  because  we 
have  reached  or  even  passed  it,  we  have  made  great  pro- 
gress in  the  spiritual  life.  And  so  pride,  and  carelessness, 
and  self-righteous  complacency  will  check  our  growth  in 
grace  ;  or  if  we  be  given  to  despond,  we  shall  be  cast 
down  often  with  as  little  reason,  writing  bitter  things 
against  ourselves,  because  we  are  not  all  we  see  others 
are,  or  all  we  think  we  once  were ;  while,  it  may  be,  the 
very  difference  we  see  is  a  sign  not  of  decay  but  of  growth, 
not  of  decline  but  of  progress.  But  no  such  danger 
arises  from  comparing  ourselves  with  our  true  example, 
Christ.  Infinitely  above  us  as  that  example  is;  con- 
trasting, in  all  its  bright  perfection,  with  our  imperfect 
imitation  of  it ;  humbling  us,  as  it  does  whenever  we 
behold  it,  until  we  are  ashamed  even  to  think  of  our 
miserable  shortcomings, — yet  no  despondency  need  mingle 
in  our  humility,  for  vast  as  is  the  height  at  which  that 
life  stands  above  us,  we  may,  even  as  we  scan  it,  have 
within  us  the  assurance  that  we  shall  yet  traverse  it. 
Glorious  as  that  ideal  of  excellence  is,  we  may  possess  a 
pledge  that  we  shall  yet  attain  to  it.     For  we  know  that 


12 


GROWTH  IN  GRACE. 


He  has  not  come  to  mock  us  with  the  display  of  a  perfec- 
tion that  never  can  be  ours.  "We  know  that  that  life  of 
His,  all-glorious  as  it  is,  He  has  lived,  just  for  this,  that 
it  may  be  ours  too.  And  we  know,  too,  that  as  it  has  its 
perfection  in  Him,  so  it  must  have  its  beginnings  in  us, 
must  have  its  gradual  increase  and  growth,  and  that  if 
we  can  recognise  its  beginnings,  if  we  can  only  see  in 
ourselves  the  first  faint  motions  of  the  new  and  heavenly 
nature,  then  may  we  hope  and  believe  that  the  life  so 
begun,  which  is  none  other  than  His  life,  shall  grow  to 
that  fulness  of  glory  that  we  see  in  Him.  Wrapped  up 
in  the  acorn  lies,  from  the  first,  all  the  strength  of  the 
oak.  Hidden  in  the  dark  colourless  root  lies  all  the 
beauty  of  the  flower.  And  the  first  small  green  leaf  that 
peeps  above  the  surface  gives  sure  promise  of  all  the 
future  growth  of  flower  and  of  tree.  So,  as  we  watch  the 
first  growth  of  the  new  life  in  us,  as  we  recognise  in  it 
the  essential  character  that  marks  it  for  what  it  is,  even 
as  we  grieve  to  see  that  it  is  ye't  so  small  and  weak,  even  as 
we  tremble  while  we  think  of  all  the  dangers  that  threaten 
its  existence,  and  shrink  from  the  thought  of  all  the 
watchful  care  and  toil  we  must  bestow  to  foster  and 
defend  its  growth,  we  may  still  in  all  humility  and  godly 
fear,  yet  with  all  faith  and  hope,  rejoice  as  we  hail  the 
appearance  of  this  work  of  God,  and  believe  that  He  who 
has  begun  it  will  carry  it  on  to  the  end. 

And  of  the  character  of  this  Divine  life  in  us — of  that 
which,  when  we  see  it,  distinguishes  the  new  nature  from 
all  other — the  Word  of  God  leaves  us  in  no  doubt.  That 
character  is  sonship,  "  To  as  many  as  believed  on  Him 
to  them  gave  He  power  to  become  the  sons  of  God." 
The  essential  principle  of  this  new  life,  that  which  makes 
it  altogether  new,  is  that  in  it  we  regain  our  lost  relation 
to  the  Father  of  our  spirits,  and  become  once  more  His 


GROWTH  IN  GRACE. 


13 


children.     "  Behold,"   says  the  Apostle  John,  "  what 
manner  of  love  the  Father  hath  bestowed  on  us,  that  we 
should  be  called  the  sons  of  God."    "  I  will  arise  and  go 
to  my  Father,"  is  the  first  word  of  the  new  life  in  him  who 
was  dead  and  had  been  made  alive  ;  and  in  that  word  lay 
folded  up  the  whole  joy  and  glory  of  his  return  ;  just  as 
in  the  word  of  selfish  and  unfilial  separation,  "  Father, 
give  me  the  portion  of  goods  that  falleth  to  me,"  lay 
all  the  sin  and  misery  of  his  exile.    "Abba,  Father," 
is  the  first  word  that  "  the  Spirit  of  adoption  "  whispers 
in  our  hearts.    "  Our  Father,"  is  the  daily  speech  of  that 
new  nature  which  that  Spirit  bestows.    "  Father,  into 
Thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit,"  is  the  last  utterance 
of  that  nature  as  it  enters  into  its  last  trial  and  undergoes 
its  last  change.    It  is  this  filial  spirit  which,  all  through 
its  progress,  rules  and  shapes  the  Christian  life.    It  is  the 
vital  principle  according  to  which  growth  in  grace  de- 
velops itself.    It  is  this  which,  infusing  itself  into  all  the 
nature  of  the  renewed  man,  changes  it ;  not  by  bestowing 
new  faculties  or  powers,  but  by  restoring  the  old  to  their 
true  use,  and  giving  them  their  true  aim  and  direction. 
It  is  this  which  ever  wars  against  and  expels  the  old  evil 
lusts  of  the  flesh.    It  is  this  which  casts  out  disobedience 
from  the  will,  and  lawlessness  from  the  desires,  and 
impurity  from  the  heart.    It  is  this  which,  entering  into  , 
all  the  religious  emotions,  makes  them  in  like  manner 
new;  changes  the  "  sorrow  of  the  world"  into  "godly 
sorrow,"  fear  of  wrath  into  fear  of  sin,  and  morality  into- 
holiness,  and  formal  service  into  spiritual  communion,  and 
hope  of  heaven  as  an  alternative  to  hell  into  longing  for 
the  presence  and  the  vision  of  God. 

From  first  to  last,  then,  this  Spirit  of  adoption  is  the 
characteristic  of  the  new  life.  "Beloved,  now  are  we 
the  sons  of  God:"  here  is  the  beginning  of  that  life. 


14 


GROWTH  IN  GRACE. 


"  When  He  shall  appear  we  shall  he  like  Him  :  "  here  is 
its  completion ;  and  all  that  lies  hetween  these  two  is 
"growth  in  grace." 

Now  though,  as  I  have  said,  if  we  measure  our  growth 
in  grace  by  comparing  any  of  our  graces  with  the  perfect 
example  of  those  in  Christ,  we  shall  only  learn  how 
infinitely  we  fall  short  of  them  ;  yet  if  we  measure  it  by 
the  degree  in  which  this  Spirit  of  Christ,  this  filial  and 
loving  Spirit  is  growing  in  us,  we  may  find  evidence  of  a 
real  growth  in  grace.  For  we  may  find  it  not  only,  or 
perhaps  chiefly,  in  any  great  increase  of  any  Christian 
graces,  or  of  all  of  them  ;  we  may  find  it  rather  in  the 
grief  that  we  feel  because  there  is  so  little  of  such  growth, 
in  the  earnest  desires  and  longings  for  more  grace,  in  the 
increasing  consciousness  of  evil  in  us, — proofs  not  that 
the  evil  in  us  is  increasing,  but  that  our  power  of  dis- 
covering it,  and  our  pain  at  its  presence,  is  increasing. 
Not  always  in  the  strength  of  our  will,  or  the  fervour  of 
our  love,  or  the  freedom  of  our  prayer,  or  the  fulness 
of  our  peace  is  the  best  proof  given  of  our  growth  in 
grace.  It  may  be  given,  though  we  fail  at  first  to  see  it, 
in  the  discovery  of  the  weakness  of  our  will,  and  the 
coldness  of  our  hearts,  and  the  sinfulness  of  our  lives.  It 
may  be,  as  we  "  mourn  in  our  prayer  and  are  vexed,"  and 
as  we  long  in  the  very  disquietude  of  our  hearts  to  flee 
away  and  be  at  rest,  that  we  have  the  best  proof  that 
things  belonging  to  the  Spirit  live  and  grow  in  us, 
and  that  all  carnal  affections  are  dying  in  us.  And, 
further,  if  it  be  this  filial  character  of  our  new  nature 
that  really  is  its  vital  principle  and  rules  its  growth,  we 
learn  that  we  can  lay  down  no  fixed  and  rigid  rule  for  the 
order  of  that  growth.  "We  may  not  say,  for  instance, 
that  in  every  case  the  new  life  begins  with  contrition, 
and  then  passes  through  faith  and  assurance  of  forgive- 


GKOWTH  IN  GEACE. 


15 


ness  to  perfect  peace.  No  such  rigid  and  uniform  rule  as 
this  is  laid  down  in  Scripture.  We  may  as  well  say- 
beforehand  in  what  order  the  leaves  in  spring  should 
burst  out  upon  the  budding  trees.  In  every  true  child  of 
God  all  the  phases  of  spiritual  life  will  surely  display 
themselves,  but  not  all  in  the  same  order.  In  some  the 
new  life  may  begin  in  tears  and  agonies  of  sorrow,  and 
pass  on  into  smiles  of  joy  and  peace ;  in  others  it  may 
begin  in  quiet  and  peaceful  trust  and  happy  service,  to 
be  disturbed,  it  may  be  ere  long,  with  deep  contrition 
for  sin,  begotten  not  of  fear  but  of  love.  It  is  the  height 
of  presumption  to  attempt  to  limit  the  manner  of  the 
Spirit's  working,  or  to  judge  of  His  presence  by  any 
other  test  than  the  presence  of  the  work  of  the  Spirit, 
the  conformity  to  the  image  of  Christ.  Wherever  there 
is  a  Christ-like  soul,  there  is  Christ  and  the  Spirit  of 
Christ ;  wherever  there  is  not  this  likeness,  then,  be  the 
feeling  or  emotion  ever  so  strong,  or  ever  so  strictly 
according  to  the  prescribed  rule,  there  Christ  is  not. 

But  if  we  are  to  grow  in  grace,  we  must  know  not  only 
the  tests  but  the  conditions  of  such  growth.  Every  life 
is  fitted  to  exist  only  under  certain  conditions ;  it  has  its 
proper  element,  its  proper  food,  and  deprived  of  these  it 
perishes.  And  as  in  the  natural,  so  in  the  spiritual  life, 
the  supply  of  these  is  left  in  a  great  degree  under  our 
own  control.  The  Communion  of  the  Body  and  Blood 
of  Christ,  for  instance,  by  which  the  soul  is  "  strengthened 
and  refreshed  ;  "  the  "  sincere  milk  of  the  Word,"  by 
which  the  newborn  life  in  us  should  grow ;  the  secret 
prayer,  that  opens  for  us  an  entrance  into  the  treasury  of 
Heaven ;  the  worship  of  the  sanctuary,  that  brings  into 
the  midst  of  the  assembled  saints  the  presence  of  their 

Lord  all  these  means  of  grace,  through  which  fresh 

supplies  of  food  from  Heaven  should  reach  our  souls,  are 


10 


GROWTH  JN  GRACE. 


ours  to  use  or  to  refuse ;  we  may,  if  we  please,  deprive 
ourselves  of  any  or  of  all  of  these.  We  may,  in  our 
slothfulness,  neglect  them,  or  in  our  presumption  despise 
them,  and  in  each  such  case  we  know  that  our  soul's 
health  must  suffer,  our  growth  in  grace  must  languish, 
if  it  do  not  altogether  cease.  Our  first  question,  then, 
when  we  find  any  symptoms  of  decline  in  grace,  should  be, 
Am  I  diligently  using  all  appointed  means  of  grace,  or 
have  I  neglected  any  one  of  them  ?  Or,  still  worse,  have 
I  dared  to  choose  between  them,  and  to  use  some  one 
especially  to  the  disparagement  of  any  other  ? — to  put, 
for  instance,  private  prayer  in  place  of  public  worship, 
or  hearing  and  reading  the  Word  in  place  of  the  Holy 
Communion  ? — as  if  God  had  given  us  more  means  of 
grace  than  we  needed  ;  or  as  if  we,  not  He,  were  to  judge 
of  what  "  food  is  convenient  for  us." 

Or,  again,  we  may  be  diligent  in  the  use  of  all  means 
of  grace,  and  yet  use  them  all  amiss.  We  may  so  partake 
of  the  Lord's  supper  as  to  eat  and  drink  in  it  only  our 
condemnation.  We  may  so  read  or  hear  God's  Word 
that  it  shall  be  to  us  a  savour  not  of  life,  but  of  death. 
We  may  so  pray  that  our  prayer  shall  bring,  not  blessings, 
but  judgment.  We  may  so  worship  in  the  sanctuary  that 
our  service  shall  be  an  abomination,  and  our  sacrifice  an 
offence.  And  all  the  while  we  may  be  deceiving  ourselves 
—  deeming  this  regular  and  formal  observance  of  set 
duties  in  itself  a  proof  of  grace ;  dwelling,  like  the  un- 
loving elder  brother,  in  the  Father's  house,  but  dwelling 
there  as  servants,  not  sons  ;  serving  God,  not  for  love,  but 
for  hire.  In  such  a  case  there  can  be  no  growth  in  grace. 
All  the  rich  abundance  of  the  feast  in  our  Father's 
house  will  profit  us  nothing,  unless  we  sit  down  to  it  in 
the  spirit  of  the  repentant,  forgiven,  loving  son,  whose 
feast  is  not  so  much  upon  bis  father's  gifts  as  on  his 


GROWTH  IN  GRACE. 


17 


father's  love.  If,  then,  while  we  cannot  accuse  ourselves 
of  neglecting  any  one  means  of  grace,  we  yet  find  in  our 
souls  no  growth  in  grace,  then  let  us  see  in  what  spirit, 
with  what  aim,  we  are  using  all  these  means.  Are  we 
using  them  as  if  the  grace  were  in  the  means,  and  not  in 
Him  who  gave  them  to  us  ?  Are  we  forgetting  the  Giver 
in  the  gifts,  and  seeking  to  have  even  these  spiritual 
riches  apart  from  God?  If  we  are,  and  just  so  far  as  we 
are,  will  God  withhold  from  us  His  best  gift — Himself, 
and  this  very  feast  of  good  things  He  has  spread  for  us 
be  to  our  souls  but  as  unsatisfying  husks. 

But  we  grow  in  grace  not  only  by  the  right  use  of  all 
means,  but  by  the  due  performance  of  all  duties.  For 
the  soul's  health,  as  for  that  of  the  body,  there  is  needed 
the  vigorous  and  active  use  of  all  its  powers.  Disuse  and 
decay  are  as  clearly  connected  in  the  one  as  in  the  other. 
The  grace  which  we  do  not  exercise,  like  the  limb  we 
never  use,  or  the  faculty  we  never  exert,  withers  and  dies 
at  last.  The  duties  that  are  appointed  us  are  not  arbi- 
trarily chosen,  they  are  each  of  them  designed  to  exercise 
and  strengthen  some  one  or  other  spiritual  faculty.  And 
the  neglect  of  any  one  of  these  can  never  be  compensated 
by  any  additional  activity  in  the  performance  of  any 
other ;  we  never  can  omit  any  one  of  these  without  in- 
juring and  weakening  some  corresponding  grace,  without 
making  our  Christian  character  one-sided  and  distorted, 
and  therefore  weak  and  sickly.  And  yet  how  strongly 
are  we  tempted  to  do  this — how  constantly  do  we  find 
ourselves  making  a  selection  among  our  duties,  and 
excusing  ourselves  for  our  neglect  of  some,  by  extra  zeal 
in  the  performance  of  others.  For  some,  home  duties  are 
the  plea  for  taking  no  part  in  the  great  works  of  the 
Church  ;  for  others,  a  noisy  and  busy  activity  in  these  is 
made  the  excuse  for  the  neglected  and  deserted  home.  In 

c 


18 


GROWTH  IN  GRACE. 


their  zeal  for  the  Church  or  for  their  family,  some  have 
no  time  or  thought  for  their  own  inner  life ;  busy  in 
watering  the  vineyards  of  others,  they  leave  their  own 
to  lie  waste  and  untended  :  while  others,  again,  in  their 
alleged  anxiety  for  their  own  spiritual  progress,  profess 
to  have  no  time  or  thought  for  aught  beside :  all  of  us 
only  too  ready  to  tithe  mint  and  cummin  in  the  doing  of 
what  we  like  best  or  find  easiest  to  do,  all  of  us  only  too 
ready  to  forget  those  other  matters  of  the  law — those 
other  duties  which,  just  because  we  like  them  least,  are  for 
us  the  weightiest  and  most  pressing. 

And,  indeed,  as  a  rule  we  may  take  for  granted,  that  the 
duty  which  we  choose,  by  way  of  preference,  is  just  the 
one  that  we  least  need  to  practise ;  and  that  the  one  we 
most  neglect  is  just  the  one  we  most  need  to  observe.  We 
may  be  sure  that  it  is  because  there  is  in  the  task  we 
shrink  from  more  of  the  cross  for  us,  and  therefore  more 
of  the  discipline  and  training  that  we  need,  than  in  any 
other,  that  we  are  shrinking  from  it.  And  we  may  be 
sure  of  this  too,  that  so  long  as  we  refuse  to  take  up  that 
cross,  so  long  will  He  who  has  appointed  it  for  us  with- 
hold the  blessing  which  He  has  bound  to  it  for  us ;  so 
long  will  our  spiritual  life  continue  faint  and  languishing, 
even  if  at  last  it  do  not  altogether  perish. 

But  the  endeavour  "to  fulfil  all  righteousness"  helps 
our  growth  in  grace  for  another  reason.  It  leads  us  to 
the  encounter  with  all  unrighteousness :  "  the  spirit 
lusteth  against  the  flesh,  and  the  flesh  against  the  spirit ; 
and  these  two  are  contrary  one  to  the  other."  Against 
every  duty  stands  its  opposing  temptation ;  against  every 
grace  its  corresponding  sin.  Love  strives  with  hate,  and 
faith  with  doubt,  and  hope  with  fear,  and  gentleness  with 
wrath,  and  obedience  with  lawlessness,  and  as  they  strive 
they  grow.    Stronger  and  still  stronger  does  each  grace 


GROWTH  IN  GRACE. 


19 


within  us  wax,  as  it  gains  in  its  turn  its  victory  over  its 
opposite.  And  deeper  and  stronger,  too,  grows  in  us  that 
essential  element  of  our  perfection — hatred  of  sin.  We 
cannot  be  holy  without  this.  The  holiness  of  an  unfallen 
being  may  consist  in  mere  ignorance  of  evil ;  the  holiness 
and  safety  of  a  fallen  and  regenerate  being  can  only 
consist  in  the  horror  of  evil  that  is  gained  by  long  and 
bitter  experience  of  it.  He  who  has  known  what  it  is 
to  wrestle  in  agony  with  his  bosom  sin,  or  face  with  a 
desperate  courage  some  terrible  and  haunting  temptation; 
he  who  has  known  how  the  sin  that  he  deemed  slain  will 
start  up  again  mightier  than  ever,  and  the  temptation 
once  repelled  with  such  desperate  effort  can  return  again 
and  again  ;  he  who  has  discovered  how  what  seemed  the 
very  smallest  sin  as  he  indulged  it,  seems  armed  with  a 
giant  might  when  he  attempts  to  oppose  it ;  he  who  finds 
how  the  evil  tenants  of  his  heart,  that  seemed  such  harm- 
less guests  there  so  long  as  they  held  undisturbed  posses- 
sion, can  tear  and  rend  that  heart  asunder  ere  they 
will  depart  from  it ;  he  who  after  some  such  deadly 
struggle  has  gained  the  victory  at  the  cost  of 
agony  unspeakable,  or  has  known  the  shame  and  the 
humiliation  of  defeat,  he  has  learned,  as  none  save  him 
can  learn,  the  "  exceeding  sinfulness  of  sin."  And  as 
he  learns  it — as  he  sees  all  evil  in  him  to  be  the  deadly 
and  loathed  enemy  of  his  life,  which  if  he  slay  not  must 
slay  him — he  has  gained  a  growth  in  grace  he  never 
could  have  gained  at  lesser  cost,  for  he  has  been  taught  to 
"  love  righteousness  and  hate  iniquity  "  by  the  deep  con- 
viction wrought,  by  all  his  suffering,  into  his  inmost 
soul  that  righteousness  is  life  and  sin  is  misery  and 
death. 

But  this  thought,  of  the  help  temptation  may  give  to 
our  growth  in  grace,  suggests  the  thought  that  there  are 


20 


GROWTH  IN  GRACE. 


conditions  of  that  growth  which  seem  to  lie  altogether  be- 
yond our  control, — helps  and  hindrances  which  are  not  of 
our  choosing  but  of  God's  appointing.  All  the  external 
circumstances  of  our  life,  for  instance ;  all  those  distinc- 
tions of  rank,  wealth,  education,  profession,  social  and 
family  ties,  that  make  such  difference  between  man  and 
man  ;  these  are  for  the  most  part  not  of  our  making,  and 
these  all,  we  know,  largely  influence  our  character  and 
shape  our  history.  How  do  these  of  themselves  neces- 
sarily affect  our  growth  in  grace  ?  How  far  is  our 
spiritual  life  the  "  creature  of  circumstances "  ?  We 
answer,  "  Not  at  all."  Not  in  the  very  least  degree  does 
our  growth  in  grace  depend  on  anything  without  us.  To 
say  that  it  did,  were  to  say  that  God  could  place  us  in 
circumstances  which  forbid  our  becoming  holy,  and  yet 
required  from  us  holiness ;  this  were  to  make  Him 
indeed  an  austere  Master,  "  reaping  where  he  had  not 
sown,  and  gathering  where  he  had  not  strawed." 

Wherever  the  renewed  man  finds  himself  in  this  world, 
there  is  the  best  place  for  him,  the  place  in  which  he  is 
put  that  in  it  he  may  grow  in  grace ;  "  for  all  things 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God."  "  All 
things  are  ours,  whether  Paul,  or  Apollos,  or  Cephas,  or 
the  world,  or  life,  or  death,  or  things  present,  or  things 
to  come ;  all  are  ours,  and  we  are  Christ's,  and  Christ  is 
God's."  Here  is  the  reason  why  nothing  in  our  position 
need  hinder  our  growth  in  grace — for  "we  are  Christ's"; 
and  where  we  are  He  will  be  with  us  still ;  and  so  though 
we  walk  with  him  through  the  furnace  of  temptation 
sevenfold  heated,  no  smell  of  fire  even  need  pass  upon 
our  garments:  God  is  with  us  there,  "for  Christ  is 
God's."  Never  let  us,  then,  accuse  our  circumstances 
for  decline  in  grace ;  never  let  us  yield  to  the  vain  and  sin- 
ful wish  to  be  elsewhere  than  just  where  we  are  ;  never  let 


UKOWXH  IN  GRACE. 


21 


us  forget  that  all  that  we  dislike  in  our  present  condition, 
all  that  seems  in  it  unfavourable  to  our  growth  in  grace,  is 
not  only  appointed  of  God  and  appointed  for  this  very 
purpose,  that  it  should  help  our  sanctification,  but  that  it 
is  also  known  to  God  ;  that  He  sees,  far  more  clearly  than 
we  see,  all  the  difficulties  of  our  position,  and  has 
provided  for  us  the  "  sufficient  grace "  to  meet  them. 
"  I  know  thy  works,  and  ichere  thou  dwellest,"  was  His 
message  to  one  whose  dwelling  was  "where  Satan's  seat 
was."  I  know,  that  is  to  say,  all  in  thy  position  that 
makes  it  hard  for  thee  to  serve  Me  ;  nevertheless  that 
knowledge  hinders  not  the  warning,  "  Repent,  and  do 
the  first  works "  ;  nor  yet  the  promise,  "  To  him  that 
overcometh  will  I  give  to  eat  of  the  hidden  manna." 

And  never  let  us  forget  either,  that  as  circumstances 
and  events  in  our  lives  cannot  of  themselves  hinder,  so 
neither  can  they  of  themselves  promote  our  growth  in 
grace.  It  is  not  the  event,  it  is  the  use  we  make  of  the 
event, — it  is  not  the  circumstance,  it  is  the  manner  in 
which  we  deal  with  the  circumstance, — that  makes  us 
the  better  or  the  worse  for  it.  Place  two  men  in  precisely 
the  same  circumstances,  and  yet  how  differently  will  they 
be  affected  by  them.  The  danger  that  makes  the  brave  man 
braver  makes  the  coward  more  timorous ;  the  wealth  that 
makes  the  spendthrift  lavish  makes  the  miser  more  miserly ; 
the  loving  devotion  that  wins  in  return  the  unspeakable 
love  of  one  heart  only  increases  the  tyrannical  selfishness 
of  another. 

So  is  the  effect  of  all  God's  providences  upon  our  spiri- 
tual character ;  they  are  not  self-acting,  they  are  to  us 
what  we  make  them.  "  Trials  come  for  our  good,"  as  we 
so  often  hear  men  say  ;  but  the  good  must  be  drawn  by 
us  out  of  the  trial,  or  it  profits  us  not.  The  same  chasten- 
ing that  brings  one  sinner  to  "his  God  right  humbly," 


22 


GROWTH  IN  GRACE. 


drives  another  further  from  Him  ;  just  as  the  same  fire 
that  melts  gold  will  harden  clay.  Even  those  outward 
conditions,  then,  that  seem  most  beyond  our  control,  are 
like  those  other  means  of  grace  of  which  we  have  spoken 
— solemn  responsibilities,  trusts  to  be  accounted  for,  talents 
to  be  improved,  opportunities  on  which  may  hang  eter- 
nal life  or  eternal  death.  A  solemn  thing,  then, brethren, 
unspeakably  solemn  and  awful,  as  well  as  a  glorious  and 
a  blessed  thing,  is  this  Christian  life  of  ours.  For  it  is 
a  life,  the  glory  and  blessedness  of  which  consist  in  this, 
that  through  and  in  it  all  may  be  felt  the  presence  of  the 
indwelling,  guiding,  teaching,  sanctifying  Spirit  of  God. 
It  is  a  life  whose  every  event  and  circumstance  may,  by 
the  power  of  that  Spirit,  be  made  to  work  for  us  an  ex- 
ceeding and  eternal  weight  of  glory,  for  it  is  a  life  which 
in  its  every  event  and  circumstance  might  be  made  to 
minister  to  our  growth  in  grace.  But  then  how  awful 
does  this  life  appear,  when  we  remember  that  in  us  lies 
the  power  of  turning  every  one  of  its  blessings  into  a 
curse, — when  we  think  that,  according  as  we  use  them, 
may  means  of  grace  become  means  of  destruction,  and 
apportunities  for  good  become  occasions  of  evil,  and 
merciful  chastenings  become  hardening  judgments,  and 
nil  our  history  one  long  growth  in  sin,  one  long  terrible 
ripening  for  the  inheritance  of  sinners  in  eternal  misery. 

May  God  preserve  us  all  from  the  sin  of  a  wasted  life  ! 
May  God  grant  us  all  "  by  His  holy  inspiration  to  know 
what  things  we  ought  to  do,  and  grace  and  power  faith- 
fully to  fulfil  the  same  !  " 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 

Pbeached  in  Peteeborough  Cathedral,  January  1st,  1871. 

"  Watchman,  what  of  the  night? 
The  morning  cometh  and  also  the  night ! ' ' 

Isaiah  xxi.  11 — 12. 

THERE  is  a  strange  and  startling  abruptness  in  this 
prophetic  utterance.  It  has  no  connection  with  those 
that  precede  or  that  follow  it.  Nothing  seems  to  have 
suggested  it,  nothing  to  result  from  it.  It  intrudes  itself 
suddenly,  unaccountably,  in  the  course  of  the  prophecy 
in  which  it  appears.  It  falls  on  our  ears  like  the  cry  of 
the  sentinel  whom  it  depicts.  A  voice  from  out  of  the 
darkness,  breaking  for  an  instant  with  its  weird  sound 
the  stillness  of  the  night,  and  then  floating  away  on  the 
wind,  until  its  echoes  die  down  into  silence  and  once 
more  all  is  still.  What  does  it  mean,  this  cry  of  the 
midnight  watcher  ?  What  is  this  burden  of  Edom,  of 
which  it  speaks  ?  What  morning  of  prosperity,  what 
night  calamity  awaits  the  people  whose  fate  it  seems  so 
mysteriously  to  foretell  ? 

We  know  not,  and  we  shall  never  know ;  nor,  what  is 
more,  could  those  who  first  heard  it  have  known.  Some 
prosperity,  some  calamity,  it  certainly  foretold  for  their 
enemies,  the  Edomites ;  but  as  to  what  these  were  to 
consist  of,  or  where  or  how  they  were  to  come  to  pass, 
they  are  told  absolutely  nothing. 


26  FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


What  lesson,  then,  either  of  warning  or  of  encourage- 
ment could  they  have  derived,  could  they  have  been 
intended  to  derive,  from  this  message  of  their  Prophet  ? 
For  all  practical  purpose,  for  any  use  it  could  have  been 
to  them,  or  to  any  one  since  their  day,  it  might  as  well, 
apparently,  have  been  unspoken. 

And  so  assuredly  it  might  have  been,  and  so  too  might 
many  another  prophecy  have  been,  were  prophecy  nothing 
else  and  nothing  better  than  many  suppose  it  to  be.  What 
is  the  idea  that  too  many  devout  and  believing  students 
of  the  Bible  still  have  of  the  Prophets  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, and  of  their  place  and  their  use  in  their  own  day 
and  ours  ?  Is  it  not  this, — that  a  prophet  was  a  man 
divinely  inspired  to  foresee  and  foretell  to  his  fellow- 
countrymen  coming  events,  and  that  afterwards  his  pre- 
dictions with  their  fulfilment  should  remain  to  us  as 
proofs  of  his  inspiration,  and  as  reasons  why  we  should 
believe  the  Bible  in  which  they  appear  ?  To  furnish 
predictions  for  the  Jew  and  evidences  for  the  Christian : 
these  are  the  two  chief,  if  not  the  only,  functions  with 
which  most  persons  used,  and  with  which  many  still  con- 
tinue, to  credit  the  great  institution  of  Jewish  prophecy. 

If  so,  it  has  largely  failed  of  its  twofold  purpose.  Pre- 
diction, if  it  is  to  be  practically  useful  to  those  to  whom 
it  is  given,  should  be  clear  and  precise  ;  it  must  say 
distinctly  what  is  coming,  and  when  and  where,  that  men 
may  know  how  to  govern,  with  respect  to  it,  their  present 
lives.  Evidence,  if  it  is  to  be  convincing,  must  be  positive, 
unmistakable.  There  must  be,  for  instance,  in  the  case 
of  prophecy  sucb  clear,  unquestionable  proof  as  none  can 
reasonably  gainsay — first,  that  tbe  prophet  did  distinctly 
foretell  that  a  certain  event  was  to  happen  at  a  certain 
time  and  place ;  and  next,  that  at  sucb  time  and  place 
that  event  did  actually  happen. 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING.  27 

Now,  that  there  are  such  predictions  in  the  Bible  may, 
we  believe,  be  clearly  shown  ;  but  these  are  comparatively 
few  in  number.  The  greater  number  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment predictions  were  neither  precisely  clear  for  those 
who  first  heard  them,  nor  have  they  been  demonstrably 
fulfilled  for  us  who  now  study  them.  There  are  many  of 
them  of  which  those  who  heard  them  might  have  said 
— as  we  know  they  did  say  of  the  utterances  of  one  of 
the  greatest  of  these  Prophets — "  Doth  he  not  speak 
parables  ?  "  And,  as  we  know,  there  are  many  of  them 
the  fulfilment  of  which  is,  and  always  has  been,  a  subject 
of  keen  debate  amongst  Christian  students  of  prophecy. 

On  this  theory,  then,  of  prediction  and  evidence  as  the 
main  functions  of  prophecy,  large  portions  of  it  are  prac- 
tically useless,  serving  at  best  only  as  exercises  for  the 
ingenuitj'  of  commentators,  but  having  no  bearing  what- 
ever upon  our  daily  life  ;  neither  teaching  us  how  to  live 
nor  how  to  die  ;  and  the  teaching  which  does  neither  of 
these  things — what  have  we  to  do  with  it,  or  it  with  us  ? 

But  quite  another  aspect  is  given  to  this  question  if  we 
regard  prophecy  in  what  assuredly  is  its  true  light :  and 
that  is,  that  the  real  aim  and  function  of  it  was  primarily 
neither  prediction  nor  evidence,  but  instruction  in  righte- 
ousness. The  prophet  was  not  merely  nor  even  mainly 
a  foreteller  ;  he  was  something  far  greater,  far  higher ; 
he  was  a  forth-teller  ;  he  was  a  man  chosen,  called  and 
sent  of  God  to  be  the  witness  for  His  laws  and  for  His 
holy  will,  in  the  midst  of  a  "rebellious  and  gainsaying 
people."  He  was  commissioned  to  reveal  "  to  Israel  his 
iniquities,  and  to  Jacob  his  sin."  He  was  God's  messenger 
to  tell  the  Jews  that  they  were  God's  people  ;  that  the  land 
that  they  called  theirs  was  therefore  not  their  land  but 
His,  and  that  they  held  it  upon  strictest  covenant  of  obedi- 
ence: that  Jehovah  was  their  Lord,  and  not  theirs  only, 


28 


FORETELLING  AND  EOKXH-TELLlNvi. 


but  Lord  of  all  the  earth..  He  was  to  proclaim  to  Israel 
that  "the  Lord  God  omnipotent  reigneth."  He  was  to 
"  tell  it  out  among  the  heathen  that  the  Lord  was  King." 
In  face  of  tyrant  king  and  traitor  priest  and  false  pre- 
tending prophet  he  was  "  to  cry  aloud  and  spare  not,"  to 
lift  up  his  voice  as  a  trumpet  in  sternest  rebuke  and 
solemnest  warning.  He  was  to  stand  beside  the  actors 
in  the  drama  of  their  natui-al  life,  and  as  it  passed  before 
him  to  flash  upon  it  the  light,  the  white  light  from  the 
throne  of  God's  judgment  seat,  that  still  showed  it,  as  it 
will  one  day  show  all  things  and  all  men,  exactly  as  it  was  ; 
exposing  the  hypocrisies,  the  cants,  the  dishonesties,  the 
false  pretences,  the  lies,  the  iniquities  of  his  day  ;  writing 
still  his  "  Mene,  Mene,  Tekel "  upon  all  the  banquet  walls 
where  throned  and  sceptred  sin  was  feasting  :  prophesying 
destruction  and  defilement  for  all  altars  where  false  priests 
were  worshipping  false  gods ;  telling  the  nation  now  to 
lament  for  that  over  which  it  was  rejoicing,  now  to  rejoice 
for  that  over  which  it  was  lamenting.  Stern,  faithful 
witness  for  God  and  for  His  law,  championing  ever  right 
against  might,  justice  against  wrong,  truth  against  false- 
hood, holiness  against  sin ;  he  was  for  ever  revealing  to 
his  countrymen  the  true  meaning  of  their  history  in  the 
light  of  the  one  great  central  fact  that  conditioned  and 
explained  it  all,  that  God  was  the  ruler  and  judge  of  all 
men  ;  that  His  government  was  a  moral  government,  "the 
sceptre  of  His  kingdom  a  right  sceptre ;  "  that  as  they 
served  or  disobeyed  Him  did  nations  fade  or  flourish,  that 
the  morn  of  their  sinful  prosperity  must  end  in  night,  and 
the  night  of  penitent  affliction  end  in  day :  because  the 
Lord  was  King. 

Not  foresight,  then,  was  the  chief  gift  of  the  prophet, 
but  insight — a  far  rarer  and  far  more  precious  gift.  God's 
seer  was  he,  whose  eyes  God  had  opened  to  see  all  men 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


29 


and  all  things  as  God  sees  them.  His  was  the  gift, 
not  so  much  to  foresee  future  time  as  to  understand  his 
own.  Compared  with  this,  foresight  is  at  the  best  but  a 
poor  gift.  The  prophet  might  share  it  with  the  witch 
and  the  wizard.  It  is  not  always  divine ;  it  may  be 
devilish,  and  its  possession  may  turn  men  into  devils. 
Never  did  our  great  dramatist  display  a  deeper  knowledge 
of  human  nature  than  when  he  pictures  the  moral  nature 
of  one  who  was  once  the  simple  loyal  soldier,  true  to  his 
sovereign  and  his  country,  withering  rapidly  away  in  the 
lurid  light  of  the  witch  fires  that  showed  him  to  himself 
as  thane  and  king  that  was  to  be.  "We  are  not  fitted, 
our  souls  are  not  strong  enough,  to  bear  the  awful  gaze 
into  the  future  that  must  paralyse  or  pervert  the  present, 
that  must  make  our  life  unnatural,  and  therefore  almost 
certainly  evil. 

But  insight,  the  power  to  see  things  as  they  truly  and 
really  are,  the  knowledge  not  of  where  or  what  we  shall 
be  to-morrow,  but  of  where  and  what  we  are  now ;  the 
light  which  falls  not  upon  the  distant  horizon  but  upon 
the  path  before  our  feet ;  the  gift  which  makes  us  not 
knowing,  but  wise,  and  wise  unto  salvation  ;  this,  for  man 
or  for  nation,  is  God's  most  precious  gift.  And  this,  in  far 
greater  measure  than  is  ordinarily  bestowed  on  men,  was 
God's  chief  gift  to  His  Prophets  of  old.  By  the  help  of 
it  they  saw  ever  clearly  before  them  tAvo  great  facts  :  one 
a  Kingdom  of  God  on  earth,  and  the  other  Kingship  of 
God  over  all  other  kingdoms,  though  they  knew  and 
owned  Him  not.  They  saw  in  the  Jewish  nation  and 
polity  a  kingdom  distinct  from,  differing  from  all  others 
in  this,  that  it  was  founded  in  righteousness,  that  it 
possessed  a  divinely  revealed  law,  and  enjoyed  a  divine 
presence  which  was  not  vouchsafed  to  other  kingdoms  ;  a 
kingdom  whose  mission  on  earth  was  to  preserve  the 


30 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


knowledge  of,  and  maintain  the  rule  of,  the  one  and  only 
true  God ;  to  keep  alive  for  mankind  pure  faith  and  pure 
life  amidst  the  false  faiths  and  foul  life  of  surrounding 
heathendom.  And  on  the  other  hand  they  saw  the 
supreme  rule  and  moral  government  of  the  Lord  over  all 
those  mighty  empires  which  rose  and  fell  around  the  little 
realm  of  Palestine,  as  the  waves  of  the  sea  rise  and  swell 
and  toss  around  some  beacon  whose  light  shines  out  upon 
their  dark  restless  waves,  and  whose  rock  -  grounded 
strength  resists  their  fiercest  might. 

And  we  to  whom  through  all  the  ages  come  these  Pro- 
phets' words  of  warning  or  of  cheer  ;  we  who  are  called 
as  they  were  to  witness  still  to  these  two  great  facts 
which  still  dominate  all  human  history — a  kingdom 
of  God  amongst  men,  divine,  God-ruled,  God-indwelt, 
obeying  a  law  which  is  not  of  this  world :  and  the  king- 
doms of  men  ruled,  though  they  know  it  not,  by  Him 
who  setteth  up  one  and  pulleth  down  another,  as  it 
pleases  Him ;  now  bidding  them  to  serve,  now  permitting 
them  to  assail,  but  never  suffering  them  to  overthrow  that 
other  kingdom  set  in  their  midst, — we,  too,  may  grow 
wiser  by  their  insight,  braver  by  their  courage,  stronger 
by  their  faith,  as  we  in  our  turn  strive  to  maintain  and 
spread  first  within  His  kingdom,  and  then  througbout  the 
world,  the  knowledge  and  the  love  of  the  one  and  only 
King  of  Kings  and  Lord  of  Lords. 

Thus  regarded,  we  can  see  how  even  the  obscurest  of 
prophecies  may  have  had  its  use  for  those  who  heard  it. 
We  can  see  how  it  must  have  helped  to  keep  alive  in  the 
heart  of  the  people  to  whom  it  was  spoken  faith  in  a 
living  and  a  righteous  ruler  of  mankind,  telling  them  that 
not  chance,  nor  fate,  nor  any  one  of  the  false  gods  of 
the  heathen  round  about  them,  but  a  just  and  Almighty 
Lord  was  ruling  and  over-ruling  all  the  affairs  of  men  ; 


FOEETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


31 


and,  therefore,  that  their  only  safety  in  the  presence  of 
nations  greater  and  mightier  than  they  lay  in  the  know- 
ledge of  and  obedience  to  His  holy  law  and  command- 
ments ;  and  so  as  each  nation  or  empire  rose  on  their 
horizon,  threatening  or  tempting  them  with  fear  of 
destruction,  it  was  confronted  by  their  Prophets  with 
their  words  of  stern  and  lofty  defiance  : — Fear  not,  they 
still  said  to  God's  chosen  people,  nor  be  dismayed  at  the 
greatness  nor  at  the  threats  of  your  enemies.  These  great 
world  powers  have  all  of  them  their  rounds  fixed,  and 
their  times  appointed  for  them  by  Him  who  has  spread 
out  the  heavens  as  a  curtain,  and  placed  the  sands  of  the 
sea  for  a  barrier  that  they  cannot  overpass  ;  the  advancing 
tide  of  their  invasion  shall  not  overflow  your  name,  and 
3'our  place  among  the  nations  shall  not  be  swallowed  up 
nor  lost  in  the  threatening  depths  of  their  conquests,  if 
only  you  will  obey  your  Lord  and  theirs.  Fear  Him,  and 
you  will  have  no  cause  to  fear  them. 

For  such  a  purpose  as  this  it  was  not  necessary  that 
each  prophecy  should  be  clear,  precise  and  plain.  It  was 
not  necessary  that  they  should  know  the  when  and  the 
where  and  the  how  of  God's  promised  interference  on 
their  behalf,  if  only  they  knew  assuredly  that  He  would 
so  interfere  ;  they  did  not  need  to  know  when  the  day  of 
doom  for  their  enemies  should  dawn,  if  only  they  knew 
that  there  was  a  doom,  and  that  the  hour  of  it  was 
measured  and  appointed  in  the  unchanging  councils  of 
the  Lord  of  Hosts. 

Occasionally  to  such  a  people  there  might  be  given,  and 
there  were  given,  to  strengthen  their  faith,  distinct  pre- 
dictions of  near  events,  the  distinct  fulfilment  of  which 
they  were  allowed  to  see ;  the  destruction,  for  instance,  of 
some  invading  besiegers,  the  coming  years  of  captivity, 
and  the  joy  of  their  deliverance  and  restoration.  These  and 


32 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


the  like  events,  distinctly  foretold,  and  distinctly  coming 
to  pass,  gave  ground  for  believing  all  the  rest ;  but  one 
and  all,  fulfilled  in  their  time  or  delayed,  clear  or  dark, 
mystic  and  symbolical  or  plain  and  precise,  all  alike  spoke 
the  same  lesson  straight  to  the  heart  and  to  the  daily  life 
of  the  Jew :  the  lesson  of  courage  and  of  faith,  of 
patience  and  obedience,  the  lesson  that  this  world  is 
God's  world  and  not  man's,  that  His  will,  not  ours,  rules 
all  its  forces,  shapes  all  its  destinies,  and  that  His  is  a 
righteous  will.  All  else  is  unstable,  uncertain,  fleeting 
and  vanishing  away ;  men  and  nations  come  and  go, 
their  day  of  triumph  and  of  prosperity,  their  night  of 
shame  and  ruin  wax  and  wane,  and  the  glory  of  them 
and  the  shame  of  them  ere  long  lie  dead  together,  as  the 
withered  flowers  of  the  field  beneath  the  scythe  of  the 
mower  ;  but  the  word  of  the  Lord  abideth  for  ever  and 
for  ever. 

And  now,  with  this  guiding  thought  in  our  minds,  let 
us  turn  to  the  prophecy  in  our  text.  The  scene  which  it 
depicts  is  an  eminently  typical  one.  It  is  one  that  we 
see  repeating  itself  through  all  time.  It  is  that  of  a 
nation  in  its  dark  hour  calling  on  its  seer  for  light.  The 
people  of  Edom  are  depicted  as  citizens  in  some  beleaguered 
city,  crying  to  their  sentinel  watchman — "  What  of  the 
night  P  what  of  the  night  ?  "  Is  it  not  ever  so  ?  Is  it  not 
that  through  all  human  history  we  see  the  multitudes 
resorting  thus  to  their  chosen  leaders  for  light  and  for 
guidance,  at  the  time  of  their  deepest  distress  ?  High 
above  the  lower  ways  of  life,  all  thronged  as  they  are 
with  the  toiling  crowds,  whose  eyes,  dimmed  oft  with 
tears,  are  bent  ever  downwards  upon  the  hard  paths  in 
which  they  seek  with  pain  and  weariness  their  daily 
bread,  stand  those  who  have  been  born  or  have  climbed 
to  higher  place,  and  who  can  see  or  are  supposed  to  see 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


33 


a  wider  horizon  than,  is  visible  for  those  beneath  them — 
thinker,  teacher,  preacher,  poet,  orator,  statesman,  leaders 
all  and  watchmen  of  the  people — to  these  the  multitudes 
still  cry  aloud,  Tell  us  what  of  the  night !  you,  whom 
genius,  knowledge,  power,  rank  have  lifted  up  so  far 
above  us,  tell  us  what  is  it  that  from  your  high  places 
you  can  discern  of  the  coming  day  that  we  long  for  and 
cannot  see. 

The  night  of  our  sorrow  and  our  helplessness  hangs 
upon  us  dark  and  heavy,  a  darkness  that  may  be  felt.  It 
wears  our  hearts  out  with  weary  waiting  for  the  morn 
that  seems  never  to  come.  Can  you  discern  no  streaks  of 
the  dawn  ?  Can  you  give  us  no  promise,  no  hope,  that, 
before  we  pass  away  and  are  no  more  seen,  our  eyes  shall 
behold  the  light  and  we  shall  feel  its  warmth,  were  it  but 
of  one  summer's  day  of  our  life  on  earth?  Oh,  watchman, 
watchman,  what  of  the  night  ? 

Solemn  and  sad  and  terrible,  too,  is  this  cry  of  those 
who  suffer  and  who  sorrow,  unto  those  on  whom  they 
have  fixed  their  hope.  Woe  to  him  who  misinterprets,  or 
who  answers  it  amiss ;  woe  to  him,  who,  being  trusted, 
deceives ;  being  a  chosen  guide,  misleads  ;  who  sees  in  the 
glow  from  the  camp  fires  of  some  invading  enemy  of 
humanity  the  red  streak  of  the  dawn  ;  who  announces 
as  the  coming  morning  only  some  added  terror  of  the 
night !  Such  false  watchmen  do  worse  than  deceive  those 
who  trust  in  their  prophecies,  they  demoralise  and 
degrade.  Man's  hopes  for  the  future,  man's  faith  in  a 
higher  and  better  life,  man's  trust  in  humanity  itself  are 
weakened  by  evexy  such  disappointment,  until  at  last 
they  sicken  even  unto  death.  If  these  whom  we  so 
trusted,  is  their  cry,  if  these  who  for  what  they  promised 
us  of  better  things  have  been  lifted  by  us  into  higher  place, 
if  these  saviours  of  society  fail  us,  whom  can  we  trust  ? 

u 


34  FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


What  is  there  left  for  us  to  hope  for  ?  The  stars  that  we 
looked  up  to  have  proved  but  wandering  and  deceiving 
lights,  meteors  shining  only  to  betray  ;  nothing  is  then 
left  for  us  save  to  drift  aimlessly,  helplessly  along,  as  the 
currents  and  the  streams  of  this  troubled  ocean  of  life  on 
which  we  are  afloat  may  bear  us.  If  so,  let  us  drown 
our  care  in  the  intoxication  of  sin  and  of  vice.  Let  us  drain 
the  wine  of  iniquity,  even  though  it  maddens  to  crime.  Let 
us  eat  and  drink,  nay,  let  us  arise  and  kill  that  we  may 
eat,  for  to-morrow  we  die.  And  so  the  nation  that  has 
lost  its  faith  perishes,  must  perish,  in  the  night  of  its 
dark  distrust.  "With  faith  depart  courage,  patience,  self- 
denial,  self-respect,  nay,  even  love,  stronger  than  death 
though  it  be,  but  unable  to  survive  the  death  of  true 
manhood  and  the  triumph  of  the  beast  in  man  ;  and  in 
their  stead  comes  fretful  impatience,  coward  selfishness, 
wild  envy  and  hate  of  those  who  want  against  those  who 
have,  and  fierce  despair,  tugging  in  its  blind  misery  and 
wrath  at  the  pillars  on  which  society  rests,  satisfied  to 
perish  if  it  may  only  involve  with  itself  all  that  it  hates 
in  one  common  destruction. 

Let  us  listen,  then,  to  the  answer  which  this  watch- 
man, this  divinely  inspired  seer,  has  to  give  to  a  people's 
cry  for  guidance.  The  answer,  like  the  speaker,  is  emi- 
nently typical.  If  this  watchman  represents  all  seers, 
his  utterance  represents  the  teaching  of  all  true  seers,  as 
distinguished  from  those  wbo  falsely  claim  the  title.  It 
is,  we  see,  a  double  forecast — it  predicts  a  coming  day,  but 
also  a  coming  night — light  and  darkness  interchanging 
and  intermingling.  Now  it  is  precisely  in  this  respect 
that  the  true  forecast  for  humanity  differs  from  the  false. 

Two  schools  of  the  prophets,  two  philosophies  of  life 
there  are,  which  all  along  the  course  of  human  history  have 
claimed  to  solve  its  mystery  and  to  predict  its  course.  Of 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH- TELLING. 


35 


one  of  these  the  prophecy  is  all  of  the  morn,  of  the  other 
all  of  the  night.  The  optimist  and  the  pessimist  have 
each  his  forecast  for  our  race,  each  of  them  false.  The  one 
is  ever  predicting  a  coming  morn,  that  shall  never  be 
darkened  into  night :  the  other  a  coming  night  that  shall 
never  know  a  morn. 

The  optimist  is  for  ever  telling  us  of  some  great  happy 
day  for  humanity,  the  dawn  of  which  he  tells  us  he  can 
clearly  discern  already  climbing  up  the  heavens.  The 
enthusiast,  the  dreamer,  the  reformer — religious,  or  politi- 
cal, or  social — has  always  his  plan,  his  project,  his  newly- 
invented  patent  for  the  regeneration  of  society,  and  he 
proclaims  it  with  the  confident  promises  of  its  certain 
near  success  :  Adopt  my  plan,  try  my  experiment,  accept 
my  creed,  carry  out  my  reform ;  and  all  will  be  well,  and 
that  speedily.  The  march  of  humanity,  is  it  not  ever 
onwards  and  upwards  ?  Circumstances  only,  accidents 
merely,  hinder  its  triumphant  progress.  Let  us  but  alter 
these  circumstances  and  provide  against  these  accidents, 
and  the  new  day  of  humanity  has  begun.  Such  prophets 
never  lack  disciples.  The  multitude  who  suffer  and  who 
sorrow  listen  eagerly  to  him  who  tells  them  that  all  of 
their  sufferings  and  most  too  of  their  sorrow  arises  from 
no  fault  of  theirs,  but  only  from  the  faults  of  the  society  of 
which  they  are  the  innocent  and  afflicted  members. 
Greedily  do  they  drink,  in  the  fever  thirst  of  their  miser}r, 
from  the  ever-flowing  stream  of  confident  promise  which 
babbles  on  and  on  of  rest  and  comfort  and  peace  and  joy 
that  are  always  coming,  and  yet  that  somehow  never  come. 
And  still  the  cry  of  the  unabashed  though  ever  confident 
prophet  is,  "  The  morning  cometh  "  And  it  does  so  often 
seem  really  to  have  come.  Ever  n  i  again  some  old  order 
vanishes,  and  with  it  vanish  the  old  wrongs,  evils,  shames, 
miseries  that  it  gave  birth  and  shelter  to ;  and  the  new 


36 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


order  comes  in  its  place,  its  face  as  that  of  an  angel,  its 
hands  filled  with  gifts  for  men  :  all  will  surely  now  be 
well !  Alas,  alas  !  ere  long  the  face  begins  to  wear  the  old 
human  look  of  weariness  and  feebleness,  of  passion  and  of 
pain.  It  grows  prematurely  old  and  haggard,  and  is 
seen  to  be  smitten  with  that  strange,  mysterious  disease 
that  has  smitten  in  turn  all  that  came  before  it.  The  pre- 
cious things  that  filled  its  hands  seem,  somehow,  like  fairy 
gifts,  to  be  withering  into  dust.  The  old  evils  are  gone, 
new  ones  have  taken  their  place,  and  the  new  are  not  a 
whit  easier  to  bear  than  the  old.  Unforetold  failure,  un- 
imagined  troubles,  unforeseen  difficulties  spring  up  as  it 
were  out  of  the  ground,  which  somehow  seems  still  to  bring 
forth  briars  and  thorns  as  of  old.  Between  humanity  and 
its  new  paradise  waves  still  that  swift  revolving  sword  of 
fate  or  chance  which  still  forbids  an  entrance  there. 
Humanity  is  not  at  rest,  is  not  at  peace  ;  the  morn  of  the 
new  day  is  swiftly  clouded  over  ;  the  heavens  grow  black 
again,  wild  storms  beat  down  as  of  yore  the  shelters 
within  which  men  bad  fondly  thought  themselves  secure. 
Once  more  does  the  weary  saddened  multitude  cry  for 
light ;  once  more  does  the  cry  of  the  false  sentinel  echo 
through  the  darkness,  "  The  morning  cometh,  the  morning 
cometh."  Once  more  from  out  of  the  tombs  and  the  nuns 
of  the  new  order,  as  from  the  old,  comes  the  mocking 
answer,  "  Also  the  night,  also  the  night !  " 

Yes,  all  experience,  all  historj',  all  that  we  know  of  our 
own  lives,  all  that  we  know  of  the  history  of  our  race 
tells  us  that  whatever  be  the  true  philosophy  of  life,  what- 
ever be  the  true  forecast  for  humanity,  this  of  the  optimist 
is  demonstrably  false. 

Let  us  listen,  then,  to  another  seer.  Over  against  'he 
optimist  stands  the  pessimist.  The  man  who,  fixing  his 
gaze  always  on  the  darker  side  of  human  history,  notiug 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


37 


its  crimes,  its  miseries,  its  follies,  its  failures  as  it  vainly 
struggles  to  deliver  itself  from  the  ever-entangling  web  of 
evil  circumstance,  that,  spite  of  all  its  efforts,  still  drags  it 
down  to  earth  as  the  snare  of  the  fowler  drags  its  fluttering, 
screaming,  helpless  captive,  utters  his  prediction,  based,  as 
he  tells  us,  not  upon  a  dream  of  a  future  never  to  come,  but 
on  the  surer  evidence  of  a  too  certain  past,  an  experience 
which  worketh  not  hope  but  despair.  As  it  has  been,  he 
tells  us,  so  shall  it  ever  be  ;  man  can  never  rise  out  of  and 
beyond  himself,  his  attempts  to  do  so  must  end  as  they 
always  have  ended,  in  utter  and  disappointing  failure. 
Why  then  should  we  thus  continue  to  deceive  ourselves  ? 
Why  not  face  the  facts  of  existence  as  they  are,  as  all 
history  demonstrates  that  they  must  be  ?  Why  not  con- 
fess once  and  for  all  that  religion  is  a  deception,  civiliza- 
tion a  fraud,  society  a  blunder  or  a  crime ;  and  either  set  us 
down  to  bear  the  evils  these  are  causing,  knowing  that  if 
these  were  to  vanish  others  and  worse  would  come  in  their 
places,  or,  if  this  be  too  great  a  demand  upon  our  endur- 
ance, why  not  sweep  all  these  away  by  one  convulsive 
effort,  and  try  with  a  desperate  plunge  the  very  utmost 
depths  of  our  fate  ?  What  these  may  be  we  know  not,  we 
care  not ;  only  let  us  have  done  for  ever  with  these  quack 
remedies  for  an  incurable  disease  which  only  aggravate  its 
bitterness.  For  faith  let  us  choose  agnosticism  ;  for  order, 
anarchy ;  for  social  institutions  of  all  kinds  whatsoever, 
nihilism  ;  for  these  deceptive  imaginary  mornings  of 
progress,  the  reality,  grim  though  it  be,  of  nothingness 
and  despair. 

And  he  too  has  his  disciples,  not  for  the  most  part  like 
the  optimist  drawn  from  the  multitude  who  toil  and  suffer. 
Pessimism  will  never  be  the  poor  man's  faixh.  He  cannot 
afford  to  part  with  the  dream  of  the  future,  dream  though 
it  be,  in  which  he  can  take  refuge  from  the  dull,  weary 


38  FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


misery  of  the  present.  The  poor  are  for  the  most  part 
optimists.  If  they  were  not  they  would  not  be  the  easy 
prey  they  are  for  the  demagogue  who  seeks  to  rise  on  their 
shoulders  to  power  by  promises  of  the  good  time  coming, 
when  all  men  shall  be  equally  rich  and  equally  happy. 
No  !  pessimism  is  the  creed  of  a  man  who  has  enjoyed  life 
to  the  utmost,  and  for  whom  it  has  become  all  weary,  stale, 
flat,  and  unprofitable.  The  worn  out  voluptuary,  the 
blase  man  of  rank  and  wealth  and  fashion  who  has  had  all 
that  the  poor  man  longs  for,  and  who  can  tell  him  that  it 
does  not  bring  the  happiness  he  dreams  that  it  can  give  ; 
the  man  who,  tired  and  sick  of  life's  banquet,  falls  to 
criticising  its  dainties  and  to  scoffing  at  its  tawdry  and  • 
faded  ornaments ;  the  cynic  who  sneers  at  all  the  higher, 
nobler,  purer,  instincts  of  our  nature,  which  he  has  lost  for 
himself  and  therefore  loves  to  deny  the  existence  of  in 
others,  delighting  to  expose  with  irreverent  hand  the 
most  hidden  shames  and  sores  of  our  poor  humanity,  show- 
ing, as  it  is  so  easy  to  show  them,  how  thin  are  the  veins 
of  gold  that  traverse  the  thick  clay  of  our  human  nature. 
For  him  the  philosophy  of  the  pessimist  may  well  be  the 
only  true  philosophy  of  life.  And  close  in  the  train  of  the 
cynic  come  the  pleasure-loving  and  the  profligate ;  they, 
too,  like  well  enough  the  theory  of  life  which  assures  them 
that  virtue  is  most  probably  only  a  hypocrisy,  and  is  at 
any  rate  a  profitless  waste  of  energy,  better  spent  in  the 
search  after  enjoyment.  And  so,  as  this  miserable  creed 
spreads  itself  abroad  amongst  men  does  virtue  die,  and 
vice,  naked  and  not  ashamed,  flaunt  herself  in  all  the  ways 
of  men  ;  and  with  her  come  her  two  devoted  servants, 
degraded  art  and  depraved  and  depraving  literature,  boast- 
ing their  faithfulness  to  their  goddess  Nature,  proclaiming 
their  new  cult  of  realism — the  worship  of  nastiness — the 
deification  of  filth.    And  these,  all  of  these  cry  aloud 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING.  39 


as  they  pass  along  their  evil  ways,  "Also  the  night,  also 
the  night !  "  And  to  furnish  us  with  light  in  its  darkness 
they  will  give  us  the  phosphorescence  of  corruption,  the 
corpse  lights  flitting  to  and  fro  over  the  graves  of  faith 
and  hope  and  love. 

But  odious  and  revolting  as  is  this  forecast  for  humanity, 
the  question  we  have  to  decide  for  ourselves  is  not,  Is  this 
horrible  ?  but,  Is  it  true  ?  Is  this  prophecy,  so  largely 
justified  by  all  the  past  of  mankind,  a  true  vision  of  its 
future  ?  Thank  God  that  we  can  answer,  No  !  a  thousand 
times  no  !  In  the  name  of  the  humanity  that  you  libel, 
in  the  name  of  that  human  heart  by  which  we  live ;  in 
the  name  of  the  soul  that  aspires,  the  heart  that  loves,  the 
conscience  that,  elevating,  purifying  soul  and  heart,  lifts 
man  above  the  beast  you  say  he  is,  we  challenge  your 
prophecy  of  night,  we  reject  your  hideous  gospel  of 
despair.  Even  had  we  no  other,  no  nobler  vision  of  our 
future  given  us  from  above ;  even  were  there  no  voice  of 
seer  other  than  yours  to  break  in  upon  the  darkness  of  our 
night,  we  have  still  two  revelations  left  which  largely 
testify  against  your  creed.  They  are  experience  and 
history.  There  is  no  man  who  has  ever  manfully  fought 
down  the  beast  within  him,  and  raised  himself  on  stepping 
stones  of  his  dead  self  to  better  things ;  there  is  no 
devoted  woman,  spending  her  life  in  loving  sacrifice  for 
others ;  there  is  not  one  who  has  ever  gained  one  real 
victory  over  evil  in  the  world  around  him ;  nay,  there  is 
not  one  even  of  the  most  bitter  and  vicious  outcasts  of 
society,  whose  shame  and  ruin  you  blazon  as  the  proof  of 
your  miserable  predictions,  who  does  not  by  the  exceeding- 
bitterness  of  his  agonising  cry  for  deliverance  from  a  state 
the  wretchedness  of  which  proves  it  to  be  unnatural  for 
him,  who  does  not  own  to  a  belief — deep  as  the  innermost 
core  of  our  nature,  old  as  its  first  sorrow,  universal  as  is 


40 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


that  very  law  of  decay  and  death  over  which  you  gloat, 
strong  so  that  no  waters  of  affliction  have  ever  quenched 
it — that  we  are  not  as  the  beasts  that  perish  ;  that  there  is 
in  us  something  greater,  nobler,  more  enduring  too  than 
external  circumstances  and  change  and  death,  and  that  we 
shall  survive  all  these. 

And  history  too,  the  story  of  our  race,  if  it  gives  you 
good  proof  of  your  evil  prophecy,  gives  its  refutation  too ; 
for  it  tells  us  how  still  from  out  of  this  humanity  which 
you  declare  tends  ever  to  dissolution  and  corruption  there 
have  arisen  again  and  yet  again,  even  in  its  darkest  hours, 
heroes,  sages,  prophets,  martyrs,  whose  words  and  deeds 
in  their  day,  as  stars  in  the  night,  have  not  yet  withdrawn 
their  shining.  It  tells  us  how  strangely  by  the  power  of 
some  hidden,  unquenchable  life,  this  degenerate  humanity 
of  ours,  at  which  you  mock,  has  been  suddenly  regene- 
rated in  these  and  in  thousands  whom  their  lives  have 
stirred  to  nobler  life  again.  Each  and  all  of  them  are 
our  witnesses  against  these  prophets  of  the  night ;  each 
one  of  these  who  in  their  day  found  life  worth  living, 
because  they  found  a  sweetness  even  in  death  itself,  for 
the  sake  of  their  fellow  men  ;  each  one  of  them,  from 
their  shrines  in  the  loving  memories  of  men,  in  answer  to 
your  false  watchword,  "  The  night  cometh,"  still  cry  aloud, 
"  Also  the  morning,  also  the  morning  !  " 

And  now  that  we  have  seen  how  these  two  forecasts  for 
our  race,  that  of  the  optimist  and  that  of  the  pessimist,  are 
ever  contradicting  each  other ;  how  each  can  in  turn 
appeal  to,  and  each  in  turn  be  refuted,  by  facts  in  the 
nature  or  in  the  history  of  mankind ;  let  us  see  what 
Christianity  has  to  say  to  both.  The  answer  of  the 
Christian  prophet,  and  every  Christian  so  far  as  he  truly 
is  a  Christian  is  a  prophet,  nay,  though  he  be  least  in  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  even  a  great  prophet, — the  answer  of 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


41 


every  Christian  who  understands  his  faith  is  for  both  these 
false  seers  the  same.  Your  prophecy  is  false  because  it  is 
but  half  a  prophecy ;  you  fail  in  foresight,  because  you 
lack  insight ;  you  do  not  understand  the  nature,  you  do  not 
know  the  true  history  of  the  humanity  whose  horoscope 
you  are  trying  to  cast.  You  cannot  foretell  its  future, 
because  you  are  ignorant  of  its  past.  Two  facts  there  are 
in  human  history  which  you  willingly  are  ignorant  of, 
but  which  alone  can  explain  for  you  its  present  or  fore- 
shadow its  future.  They  are  its  fall  and  its  redemption. 
Of  these  science  finds  no  trace,  and  the  history  which 
records  them  for  us  you  pronounce  to  be  a  fable.  And  yet 
they  give  us  just  that  insight  respecting  it  which  you 
have  not.  They  enable  us,  therefore,  to  make  for  our  case 
a  surer  forecast  than  you  can  ever  make ;  just  because 
they  do  what  neither  of  you  can  ever  do,  explain  and 
harmonize  these  two  opposing  series  of  facts  on  which 
you  base  your  respective  prophecies. 

To  the  optimist  we  say,  the  fact  of  which  you  take 
no  notice,  and  your  ignorance  of  which  makes  all  your 
prophecy  nothing  better  than  a  dream,  is  this — that 
humanity  has  fallen  to  its  present  condition  from  a  higher 
and  a  happier  state,  that  in  its  fall  it  has  suffered  such 
injury,  has  been  so  enfeebled,  so  hurt  and  strained  that  it 
can  no  longer  stand  upright.  A  poison,  a  deadly  poison, 
has  intermingled  itself  in  all  its  life  blood,  and  has  tainted 
it  through  and  through,  manifesting  itself  in  ever  varying 
symptoms,  all  indications  of  the  same  disease.  If  this  be 
so,  it  is  clear  that  no  changes  of  outward  circumstances 
can  ever  remedy  this  evil.  Here  and  there,  now  and  then, 
they  may  palliate  it.  The  conditions  of  this  or  that  man's 
life  may  shield  him  from  moral  dangers  to  which  his  less 
fortunate  brethren  are  exposed.;  wise  legislation  may  even 
remove  from  whole  classes  of  society  some  of  those  tempta- 


42 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


tions  to  which  they  are  especially  liable  ;  but  these  changes 
of  circumstances  no  more  avail  to  cure  the  disease  of  sin 
in  the  nature  of  man,  than  change  of  climate  will  avail  to 
cure  the  taint  of  hereditary  disease  in  the  human  body ; 
sooner  or  later  the  lurking  malady  breaks  out  again  in 
the  body  politic,  baffling  the  skill  of  the  reformer  or  the 
legislature,  putting  to  shame  and  confusion  the  smooth 
prophecies  of  the  social  quack.  Sin  inherited  from  the 
first  of  our  race,  transmitted  from  father  to  son,  through 
all  its  history,  is  the  one  root  evil  of  humanity,  which 
no  lopping  and  pruning  of  the  branches  can  ever  hinder 
from  bringing  forth  its  fruit  in  due  season ;  and  that  fruit 
is  death.  And  this,  we  maintain,  is  the  one  fatal  mistake 
of  the  optimist,  that  he  ignores  in  his  prophecies  the  one 
central  dominant  fact  in  human  nature,  that  he  is  conse- 
quently always  prophesying  an  impossibility,  the  growth 
of  a  perfect  human  society  out  of  an  imperfect  humanity. 
It  cannot  be-;  pull  down,  alter,  rebuild  the  fabric  of  society 
as  you  will,  the  material  with  which  you  rebuild  or  recon- 
struct is  still  the  same,  is  still  nothing  else  and  nothing 
better  than  that  faulty  human  nature,  which  has  failed  in 
the  hand  of  every  builder,  and  will  fail  to  the  end 
of  time.  In  vain  do  you  plan  in  your  optimist  dreams 
some  social  fabric  of  faultless  magnificence,  in  vain  do  you 
dream  some  stately  pleasure  dome,  beneath  which  humanity 
shall  dwell  secure  and  at  ease.  The  builders  who  are  to 
give  effect  to  your  dream  must  form  their  bricks  of  the 
perishable  earth  slime  and  rest  their  foundations  on  the 
shifting  sand  of  a  fallen  nature.  And  full  surely  the  time 
will  come  for  them,  as  it  has  come  for  all  that  preceded 
them,  when  the  wild  floods  of  passion  rise  against,  and  the 
rain  and  the  wind  of  sudden  calamity  smite  down  upon, 
their  building,  and  it  shall  fall,  and  great  shall  be  the  fall 
thereof;  and  thus  shall  be  its  record  written  on  its  ruins  : 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


43 


"  Lo,  these  men  began  to  build,  but  were  not  able  to  finish." 
And  the  reason  for  their  failure  will  be,  that  they  began 
to  build  without  rightly  ascertaining  the  nature  of  their 
materials  ;  they  did  not  understand  the  elementary  fact 
that  before  you  can  regenerate  society  you  must  begin  by 
regenerating  man. 

But  if  the  prophecy  of  the  optimist  is  false  because  he 
ignores  the  fall  of  man,  equally  false  is  that  of  the  pessi- 
mist, who  denies  the  redemption  of  mankind.  No  one  can 
believe  this  fact,  and  be  a  pessimist.  No  one  can  despair 
of  the  future  of  humanity,  who  believes  that  God  has 
come  to  its  rescue.  Sorely  troubled  he  may  be  to  recon- 
cile with  this  belief  the  present  condition  of  mankind ; 
hard  he  may  find  it  to  understand  why,  if  Omnipotence  is 
indeed  engaged  in  the  deliverance  of  our  race,  that  deliver- 
ance should  have  been  so  long  delayed.  As  he  contem- 
plates the  crimes,  the  shames,  the  griefs,  the  sufferings  of 
men  ;  as  he  listens  to  the  sorrowful  sighing  of  the  needy, 
and  the  cries  of  the  oppressed,  and  the  groans  of  the  dying, 
the  wailings  of  the  mourner  for  the  dead  ;  as  he  feels  him- 
self imprisoned  and  pressed  down  beneath  the  great  altar 
of  sacrifice,  on  which  humanity  seems  to  lie  a  bound  and 
helpless  victim  ;  passionate,  appealing,  all  but  challenging, 
may  be  his  cry,  "  How  long  !  0  Lord,  how  long  !  When,  oh, 
when  wilt  thou  arise  and  scatter  thine  enemies  and  ours 
for  ever  ?  When  shall  our  warfare  that  we  are  wearily, 
sadly  fighting  for  Thee  be  accomplished  ?  When  shall 
Thy  kingdom  of  peace  and  righteousness  be  established 
in  all  the  earth?"  But  if  he  believe  that  at  last  that 
kingdom  shall  be  established,  he  may  weary  but  he  can- 
not despair.  But  for  him  who  has  no  such  belief,  for  him 
who  has  satisfied  himself,  and  rightly  satisfied  himself, 
that  humanity  has  in  itself  no  power  of  deliverance,  and 
who  denies  the  fact  of  a  divine  deliverer,  pessimism  seems 


44  FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


the  only  possible  belief.  The  pessimist  has  so  far  the 
better  of  the  optimist,  that  his  creed  is  the  more  logical 
of  the  two  ;  appealing  to  the  history  of  the  past,  he  does 
but  say,  "  What  has  always  been  shall  always  be  ;  night 
has  always,  and  shall  always,  swallow  up  morning.  I  see 
no  reason  why  it  should  not  be  so."  Still  the  other  can  but 
say,  "  What  has  always  been  shall  not  continue  always  to 
be,  although  I  can  give  you  no  reason  why  it  should  not  con- 
tinue for  ever."  Not  from  nature,  then,  nor  from  history, 
but  from  revelation  only,  can  we  learn  the  great  fact  that 
completely  refutes  the  pessimist.  Deprive  us  of  this,  and  we 
shall  turn  pessimist  too,  even  as  he  would  have  done  who 
said,  "  If  in  this  life  only  we  have  hope,  we  are  of  all  men 
most  miserable."  To  the  prophet  of  evil  our  answer  then 
is  this :  So  long  as  you  deny  the  fact  of  the  redemption  of 
mankind,  we  do  not  greatly  care  to  argue  with  you  ;  you 
are,  perhaps,  right  if  there  has  been  no  Saviour,  no  incar- 
nate, dying,  redeeming  Christ.  Only  because  we  know 
that  there  has  been  such  a  Saviour,  do  we  hold  your  pro- 
phecy to  be  demonstrably  false,  and  your  philosophy  of 
life  to  be  a  hideous  blunder.  Meanwhile  you  are  yourself 
an  evidence  of  our  faith  of  no  mean  value ;  the  darker 
your  picture  of  humanity  and  its  future  grows,  the  stronger 
grows  for  us  the  proof  that  such  a  deliverer  as  we  believe 
in  was  needed,  and  that  such  a  need  of  deliverance  might 
well  have  brought  for  us  such  a  deliverer.  You  cannot  say 
worse  of  our  natural  condition  than  we  say,  when  we 
affirm  that  it  was  so  sad,  so  desperate,  that  it  drew  down 
from  Heaven  the  pitying,  loving  Son  of  God.  Laugh 
on,  then,  at  our  faith  in  such  a  Saviour  ;  laugh  your  bitter 
contemptuous  laugh  at  this  poor  race  of  ours  trying  to 
live  a  life  not  worth  the  living.  All  that  we  have  to  say  to 
you  in  reply  is,  "We  knowthat'our  Redeemer  liveth."  Our 
answer  then,  both  to  the  optimist  and  to  the  pessimist,  is 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING.  45 


that  our  faith  is  more  truly  optimist  than  the  one,  more 
truly  pessimist  than  the  other.  To  the  optimist  we  say, 
we  agree  with  you  in  all  you  say  as  to  the  glorious  future 
that  awaits  huma'nity.  Our  quarrel  with  you  is  that  you 
do  not  make  this  glorious  enough  ;  we  tell  you  that,  "  eye 
hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  hath  it  entered  into 
the  heart  of  man  to  conceive  "  the  good  things  that  God 
hath  prepared  for  us.  We  go  far  beyond  you  in  our  vision 
of  the  glorious  possibilities  of  the  race,  whose  progress  we 
believe  stops  only  at  the  very  throne  of  God,  in  which 
dwells  for  ever  a  Son  of  Man.  Only  do  we  differ  from 
you  as  to  the  time  when  this  vision  shall  be  realized ; 
unlike  yours,  our  golden  city,  within  which  nor  sin  nor 
sorrow  shall  ever  find  entrance,  cometh  down  from  above. 
And  until  it  comes,  we  hold  the  vision  of  an  abiding  city 
here  below  as  but  a  delusion  and  a  dream. 

To  the  pessimist  we  say,  we  agree  with  all  you  say  as  to 
the  weakness,  the  vileness,  the  degrading  faults  and  errors 
of  human  nature ;  but  with  you,  too,  we  find  this  fault, 
that  you  have  not  painted  this  in  its  darkest  colours,  for 
you  do  not  know  what  we  know — that  all  you  point  to  of 
weakness  and  of  evil  in  our  nature  is  but  the  outcome 
and  the  symptom  of  something  more  evil  still ;  that  aliena- 
tion of  the  soul  of  man  from  God,  which,  if  it  cannot  be 
healed,  must  lead  him  further  and  still  further  away  into 
depths  of  evil,  deeper  than  any  you  have  ever  discerned, 
even  into  the  blackness  of  darkness  of  despair  for  ever. 
We  can  set  no  bounds  to  the  terrible  possibilities  of  a  race 
which  produces,  even  now  in  this  world  of  mixed  good 
and  evil,  not  only  brutal  but  devilish  men.  Yes,  if  the 
optimism  of  Christianity  reaches  upwards,  even  into 
Heaven,  its  pessimism  reaches  downwards,  even  into  Hell. 
And  because  it  does  so,  it  can  better  explain  the  present, 
it  can  better  forecast  the  future  of  mankind  than  can 


46  FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


either  the  imperfect  optimism  of  the  optimist  or  the 
imperfect  pessimism  of  the  pessimist,  who  reject  its  two 
greatest  revelations — that  man  has  destroyed  himself,  and 
that  his  help  is  in  God.  But  it  may  be  laid,  it  is  said,  to 
us,  in  answer  to  our  claim  for  Christianity  that  it  more 
truly  than  any  other  philosophy  or  any  other  faith 
reveals  the  future  of  humanity — How  do  you  prove  the 
truth  of  your  prophecy  ?  Granting  that,  as  you  allege, 
ours  is  altogether  false,  how  do  you  show  that  yours  is 
any  better,  that  it  is  anything  else  than  one  more  amongst 
many  guesses  at  the  solution  of  the  great  mystery  of 
human  life  ?  Our  answer  to  this  challenge,  a  perfectty 
legitimate  one,  and  one  we  must  be  prepared  to  face,  is 
this,  that  our  guess,  our  hypothesis,  if  you  will  allow  it  to 
be  no  more,  has  at  least  this  to  recommend  it  over  yours : 
that  if  it  does  not  completely  solve,  it  goes  far  nearer  to 
solving,  that  great  enigma  than  does  yours.  It  takes  into 
account,  it  largely  harmonizes  all  those  facts,  one  half  of 
which  only  are  recognised  by  each  of  your  philosophies. 
It  goes  further,  very  much  further  than  any  other  theory 
of  life  to  explain  the  strange  contradictions,  otherwise 
inexplicable,  that  humanity  presents  to  us,  its  greatness 
and  its  littleness,  its  meanness  and  its  majesty,  its  strength 
and  its  weakness,  its  lofty  aspirations  and  its  low  desires, 
its  noble  sacrifices  and  its  base  and  cruel  selfishness,  its 
miracles  of  heroic  saintliness  and  its  marvels  of  unnatural 
depravity  and  crime,  its  manifestations  now  of  a  nature  but 
a  little  lower  than  the  angels,  and  now  of  a  nature  lower 
even  than  that  of  the  beasts  that  perish.  These  contrasting 
and  contradictory  facts  in  our  nature,  that  make  it  the 
strange,  fascinating,  perplexing,  half-maddening  mystery 
that  it  is  and  ever  has  been  to  all  who  thoughtfully  con- 
template it,  and  which  are  wholly  inexplicable  either  in 
the  theory  of  the  progressive  improvement  or  progressive 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


47 


deterioration  of  our  race,  Christianity  alone  even  attempts 
the  solution  of,  alone  reduces  or  attempts  to  reduce  under 
our  common  law,  alone  accounts  for  in  their  ever  varying 
workings,  and  predicts  their  ultimate  results.  True,  it 
does  not  explain  all  that  is  difficult,  or  all  that  is  myste- 
rious, in  this  human  life  of  ours.  It  does  not  explain,  for 
instance,  that  great  mystery  of  mysteries,  the  origin  of 
evil ;  nor  the  yet  more  painful  mystery  of  the  existence, 
even  for  an  instant,  of  evil  under  the  rule  of  a  benevolent 
and  almighty  Being ;  nor  the  kindred  mystery  of  the 
free  will  of  a  creature,  whose  every  other  conscious  or 
unconscious  act  seems  done  in  obedience  to  changeless  and 
inevitable  law.  These  are  difficulties  for  the  Christian 
philosopher,  as  they  are,  and  have  been,  for  every  philo- 
sopher that  the  world  has  ever  known.  But  what  a  claim 
for  Christianity  is  this,  that  within  the  limits  which  shut 
in  all  human  thought,  it  accounts  for  more  of  the  facts  of 
humanity  than  any  other  system  of  philosophy  or  of  faith. 
And  this  is  surely  a  strong  presumption,  though  we  admit 
that  it  is  not  a  demonstration,  of  its  truth.  The  test,  the 
only  possible  test,  of  any  scientific  hypothesis  is  what 
number  of  facts  does  it  account  for ;  and  that  which  best 
accounts  for  the  greatest  number  of  facts  clearly  deserves 
acceptance,  until  men  can  find  a  better  solution  for  the 
problem  with  which  it  deals. 

Again,  this  forecast  of  Christianity  for  mankind  is  our 
answer,  and  our  sufficient  answer,  to  those  who  taunt  us 
with  its  failures.  We  are  constantly  challenged  to  show 
what  Christianity  has  done  to  justify  its  proud  pretensions. 
Something,  it  is  admitted,  it  has  done  ;  much,  indeed,  for 
individuals  ;  it  can  count  its  reformed  sinners,  its  saints, 
its  heroes,  its  martyrs  ;  and  so,  we  are  reminded,  can  many 
a  creed  that  we  Christians  regard  as  false.  It  has,  doubtless 
in  a  great  degree,  mitigated  the  ferocities  of  barbarism;  it 


48 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


has  even  to  a  greater  degree  purified  human  life  ;  the 
standard  of  morality,  it  is  confessed,  is  higher  in  Christian 
states  than  it  was,  or  is,  in  pagan  ones ;  but  this,  too,  is  a 
success  which  we  are  told  that  we  must  share,  in  some  mea- 
sure at  least,  with  Buddhism  and  Mahometanism ;  but  what, 
we  are  asked,  has  Christianity  done  on  the  great  scale  for 
the  human  race  at  all  proportionate  to  the  greatness  of  the 
force  which  Christians  allege  that  it  has  brought  into  the 
world  ?  Christ,  we  are  told,  is,  according  to  our  theory, 
infinitely  greater  than  Confucius,  or  Gautama,  or  Mahomet. 
Is  its  influence  on  the  world  infinitely  greater  than  theirs  ? 
Is  it  so  much  greater  as  to  justify  the  Incarnation  ?  Has 
our  great  Deliverer  really  delivered  humanity  from  any 
one  of  its  besetting  evils?  Has  His  religion  extinguished 
poverty,  or  cleansed  the  streets  of  great  Christian  cities 
from  their  nightly  shames  and  horrors  ?  Has  it  put  an 
end  to  the  frauds  of  commerce  and  the  hard  cruelty  of 
competition ;  or  has  it  made  Christian  nations  conduct 
themselves  towards  each  other  in  compliance  with  its 
precepts  ?  Has  it  made  diplomacy  honest  or  silenced 
wars  ?  And  if  it  has  not  done  these  things  in  its  long 
life  of  eighteen  centuries,  how  has  it  proved  its  claim  to 
be  divine  ? 

To  this  our  answer  is,  If  Christianity  had  ever  an- 
nounced that  it  was  to  do  any  of  these  things ;  if  its 
Founder  had  ever  foretold  for  it  conquests  such  as  these ; 
then,  unquestionably,  Christianity  is  a  failure.  But  this 
is  precisely  what  He  has  not  done ;  nay,  He  has  done  the 
very  contrary  of  this.  He  has  told  us  from  the  first  that  we 
are  not  to  expect  that  His  religion  will  effect,  or  was 
designed  to  effect  this.  He  is  distinguished  from  all  other 
founders  of  religions  in  this,  that  He  also  seems  to  have 
distinctly  foretold  the  comparative  failure  of  the  religion 
that  He  is  founding.  "  "When  the  Son  of  Man  cometh," — 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


49 


he  asks,  forebodingly,  sadly — "  shall  He  find  faith  on  the 
earth  ?  " 

The  history  of  the  world  in  which  He  is  planting  His 
Kingdom  is,  He  tells  us,  to  be  very  much  as  it  had  ever 
been — careless,  regardless  of  the  warning  voices  that  bid  it 
prepare  for  His  coming,  buying,  selling,  eating,  drinking, 
marrying,  giving  in  marriage,  until  the  coming  of  the 
Son  of  Man.  Not  to  regenerate  but  to  redeem  the  world 
was  the  purpose  of  His  first  coming.  In  the  midst  of 
that  world  He  founds,  as  in  Palestine  God  founded  of  old, 
a  Kingdom  of  His  own,  whose  citizens  are  to  be  gathered 
out  of  the  kingdom  of  the  world ;  but  which  is  not  to 
conquer  and  absorb  these ;  to  which  His  promise  is  only 
that  it  shall  not  be  absorbed  and  conquered  by  them  : 
endurance,  not  universal  conquest,  is  His  promise  to  His 
Church.  Meanwhile,  he  distinctly  tells  us  that  His  King- 
dom is  not  of  this  world,  that  it  will  not  be  until  He 
comes  again  that  the  "kingdoms  of  this  world  shall 
become  the  Kingdoms  of  God  and  His  Christ." 

Nay,  meanwhile,  this  conversion  of  the  kingdoms  of 
this  world  into  the  Kingdoms  of  Christ  is  manifestly 
impossible.  The  laws,  the  methods  of  this  Church  can 
never  be  made  the  laws,  the  methods  of  any  earthly 
kingdoms.  No  nation,  governed  on  strictly  Christian 
principles,  could  continue  to  exist  for  a  week.*  What 
nation  could  survive  the  application  to  its  offenders  of 
the  law  of  forgiveness  until  seventy  times  seven  ;  or  to 
its  invaders,  the  law  of  non-resistance  of  evil ;  or  to  its 
paupers  the  law  of  giving  to  those  who  ask  of  it;  or  its 
would-be  creditors   the  law  that  from  him  that  would 

*  The  hostile  criticism  evoked  hy  this  statement,  of  the  essential  differ  • 
ence  between  the  aims  and  functions  of  Church  and  State,  and  the  mis- 
understandings to  which  it  gave  rise,  induced  the  Archbishop  to  define 
and  defend  his  views  in  an  article  entitled  ' '  The  State  and  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount,"  in  the  Fortnightly  Review,  January,  1800. 


50 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


borrow  it  should  never  turn  away  ?  The  kingdoms  of  this 
world  are,  at  best,  theistic ;  Christian — in  the  sense  of  being 
governed  by  the  laws  that  govern  the  Christian  Church — 
they  never  can  be;  and  the  attempts  to  make  them  so  that 
have  been  made  from  time  to  time  in  the  history  of 
Christianity  have  been  dismal  failures.  Witness  the 
attempt  of  the  Puritans  to  establish  a  theocracy  to  transfer 
the  precepts  of  the  New  Testament  into  the  enact- 
'ments  of  the  Statute  Book ;  witness  the  failure  of  the 
Papacy  in  the  Middle  Ages;  the  utter  failure  of  the  noblest 
idea  ever  conceived  by  man — the  rule  of  the  world  by  a 
Vicar  of  Christ — the  supremacy  of  light  over  might,  of 
holiness  over  sin.  These  and  all  like  attempts  were,  and 
always  will  be,  failures  ;  just  because  they  who  make  them 
do  not  give  heed  to  the  prophecy  of  their  Divine  Seer  ; 
because  they  believe  that  before  He  comes  again  there 
ever  can  be  for  imperfect  men,  either  a  perfect  world  or  a 
perfect  Church. 

When,  therefore,  we  are  taunted  with  the  so-called 
failure  of  Christianity,  our  answer  is  that  Christianity  has 
not  failed  to  do  all  that  it  ever  claimed  to  do — and  that  is 
the  calling  out  of  the  world  a  people  prepared  for  Christ. 
To  say  that  it  has  failed,  because  it  has  not  effected  more 
than  this,  is  to  say  that  it  has  failed  because  it  has  not 
done  something  more,  and  something  else,  than  He  fore- 
told it  should  do. 

If,  however,  it  is  important  for  the  defence  of  Christi- 
anity against  its  opponents  that  we  Christians  should 
clearly  understand  what  it  is  that  it  really  claims  to  do 
for  mankind,  more  important  still  is  it  that  we  should 
remember  this  for  the  guiding  and  the  governance  of  our 
own  belief  and  our  own  life  and  work  for  Christ.  The 
Christian,  as  we  have  seen,  is  in  no  danger  of  becoming  a 
pessimist,  but  he  is  in  great  danger  of  becoming  an  opti- 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING, 


51 


mist.  Believing,  as  he  does,  in  the  Divine  might  that 
dwells  in  his  faith  ;  remembering,  as  he  does,  what  have 
been  the  triumphs  of  that  faith  in  the  past ;  he  is  only  too 
apt  to  indulge  in  glorious  anticipations  of  all  that  it  may- 
yet  effect  for  the  human  race. 

Christ,  he  argues,  is  in  the  midst  of  His  Church,  His 
presence  shall  never  fail  her ;  all  that  is  needed  for  the 
conquest  of  the  world  by  Christianity  is  that  Christians 
should  truly,  fully,  realize  that  presence  ;  that  in  the  might 
of  reviving  faith  and  self-sacrificing  love  they  should  go 
forth  conquering  and  to  conquer.  How  many  a  prophecy 
of  such  triumph  rings  out  from  zealous  preacher  and 
ardent  speaker,  as  they  urge  their  hearers  to  some  fresh 
and  greater  effort  for  the  great  cause  of  the  Church's  mis- 
sion at  home  and  abroad  !  How  often  do  we  hear  of  the 
triumph  of  Christianity,  the  spread  of  the  gospel  through- 
out the  world — the  conquest  of  the  Cross  !  How  often  are 
we  told  that  if  so  much  effort  has  achieved  so  much 
success,  then  so  much  more  effort  will  achieve  so  much 
more  success  !  And  then  when  we  discover,  as  we  always 
are  discovering,  that  we  cannot  safely  apply  this  rule-of- 
three  measure  to  the  working  of  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God, 
which  works  still  as  He  listeth,  and  not  as  or  when  or 
where  we  calculate  He  should  work  ;  when  we  hear  from 
this  or  that  mission  field  of  the  Church  at  home  or  abroad, 
not  of  triumph  but  of  failure,  not  of  progress  but  of  retro- 
gression ;  when  we  hear  of  heresy  and  apostacy,  of  relaps- 
ing converts,  of  decaying  and  stagnant  churches  ;  when 
we  hear  from  worn-out  missionaries  abroad,  or  grieved 
and  saddened  pastors  at  home,  the  old  lament  of  the 
Prophet,  "  Lord,  who  hath  believed  our  report  and  to 
whom  is  the  arm  of  the  Lord  revealed?"  then  we  are  cast 
down  and  dismayed  by  the  taunts  of  our  enemies  who 
flaunt  in  our  faces  the  failure  of  our  missionaries,  and  who 


62  FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


challenge  us  to  remedy  the  evils  that  confront  us  still  at 
home  ;  and  we  are  simple  enough  to  bandy  statistics  with 
them,  to  number  converts,  to  reckon  up  sittings  and 
sitters  in  our  churches,  to  try  and  show  that  the  cost  per 
head  of  heathen  converts  is  not  so  much,  but  so  much  per 
cent,  upon  our  expenditure :  and  if  we  fail  to  satisfy 
them,  or  to  satisfy  ourselves  that  Christianity  is  making 
progress,  proportioned  forsooth  to  our  effort  and  our 
expenditure,  then  to  begin  half  to  doubt  the  truth  of  our 
faith,  half  to  question  whether  Christianity  is  not  after  all 
a  failure,  and  whether  it  might  not  be  well  to  get  rid  of 
some  of  its  articles  of  belief  which  most  offend  the 
doubter,  or  its  stricter  laws  of  life  which  repel  the  sinner  ; 
whether,  in  short,  it  might  not  be  well  to  enter  into  some 
truce  or  compact  with  the  world  in  order  to  buy,  when 
we  cannot  conquer,  its  allegiance  to  our  Lord  ! 

All  this  feeble,  half-hearted  faithlessness  would  be 
saved  us  if  we  would  but  remember  that  our  Lord  has 
sent  us  forth,  not  to  conquer  the  world  for  Him — He  will 
do  that  in  His  own  time  in  His  own  way — but  to  preach 
His  Gospel  for  a  witness  to  all  nations.  That  what  we  are 
concerned  with  is  not  the  success,  but  the  truth  and  faith- 
fulness of  our  testimony  ;  willing,  if  He  so  order  it,  that  we 
shall  labour  not  in  the  brightness  always  of  success,  but 
in  the  gloom  of  failure  ;  remembering  always  that  so 
long  as  we  imperfect,  sinful  men  are  imperfectly  striving 
to  do  His  work  in  this  imperfect  world,  the  forecast  of  our 
labours  must  ever  be — "  The  morning  cometh,  and  also 
the  night." 

But  if  we  do  remember  this,  if  we  bear  it  ever  in  mind 
as  we  go  forth  to  our  work,  our  warfare  for  Him,  it  will 
give  us  the  courage  and  the  patience  that  we  need  for  that 
work — courage  that  faces  difficulties,  patience  that  en- 
dures failure ;  the  equal  mind,  too,  which  is  neither 


FORETELLING  AND  FORTH-TELLING. 


53 


■exalted  by  triumph  nor  cast  down  by  defeat.  The  flush 
of  each  seeming  dawn  shall  fill  us  with  no  feverish  expec- 
tation, the  gloom  of  night  with  no  base  despair.  For 
night,'  we  shall  remember,  must  still  follow  day,  and  day 
must  succeed  to  night,  until  the  Sun  of  Righteousness 
shall  rise  and  night  shall  flee  away  for  ever. 

Let  us  gather,  then,  round  one  Divine  Seer,  and  ask 
Him  the  old  question,  "AVatchman  !  Thou  that  slumberest 
not,  nor  sleepest,  tell  us  what  of  the  night ;  what  of  the 
night?"  Let  us  listen  to  His  answer — "The  morning 
cometh,  and  also  the  night."  And  let  us  remember  that 
the  watch-tower  from  which  He  speaks  this  word  of  pro- 
phecy for  His  Church  was  a  cross  ;  that  it  was  from 
under  the  blackened  heavens,  looking  out  over  the  darkened 
earth  He  was  dying  to  redeem,  that  He  saw  of  the  travail 
of  His  soul,  and  was  satisfied  ;  that  it  was  with  pale  and 
parched  lips,  all  quivering  with  death  agony,  that  He  spoke 
His  great  words  of  triumph,  "  It  is  finished."  So  shall  we 
learn  to  bear  the  darkness  of  our  night  if  He  send  it.  And 
as  we  do  His  work  in  sunshine,  or  in  thickest  gloom,  we 
shall  still  feel  His  divine,  sustaining,  guiding  presence  in 
our  midst ;  beyond  our  weakness  still  His  strength,  beyond 
our  restlessness,  His  rest ;  beyond  this  chequered  twilight 
scene  of  mingled  light  and  darkness,  His  eternal  day. 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGHT. 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGHT  * 

Preached  in  Norwich  Cathedral,  March  28th,  1871. 
"  How  sayest  thou,  Ye  shall  he  made  free ?" — St.  John  viii.  33. 

THE  scene  described  in  this  chapter  makes,  I  think,  a 
fitting  introduction  to  the  series  of  sermons,  of  which 
I  am  here  to-night  to  preach  the  first.  These  sermons  are 
meant  to  be  pleadings  for  Christ.  Their  object  is  to  win 
back  to  Him  those  who  may  have  left  Him  :  to  cause  those 
who  may  not  have  left  Him  to  cling  to  Him  more  lovingly 
than  ever.  To  reclaim  disciples  to  Christ,  and  to  confirm 
disciples  in  their  discipleship — this  is  what  I  and  those 
who  are  to  follow  me  here  have  in  view.  And  for  this 
reason  I  ask  you  to-night  to  study  with  me  a  little  this 
scene  in  the  life  of  Christ ;  because  it  is  one  in  which 
we  see  how  Christ  Himself,  long  ago,  first  won  and  then 
lost  disciples.  The  scene  commences  with  a  large  acces- 
sion of  disciples  to  Christ.  We  read  that  "  as  he  spake 
these  words  many  believed  on  Him."  And  it  ends  with 
many  of  those  very  believers  taking  up  stones  to  cast  at 
Him.    First  they  believe  on  Him ;   shortly  afterwards 

*  The  following  three  sermons  were  preached  on  three  consecutive  days 
in  Norwich  Cathedral,  and  form  the  first  of  a  series  of  discourses  which 
it  was  proposed  to  hold  from  time  to  time  in  the  nave  of  that  Cathedral, 
in  defence  and  confirmation  of  the  Faith.  The  discourse  entitled  "  The 
Demonstration  of  the  Spirit"  also  forms  one  of  this  series,  and  was 
delivered  by  the  Archbishop,  then  Bishop  of  Peterborough,  en  the  12th 
of  December  in  the  same  year.  All  four  discourses  were  revised  by  him 
and  subsequently  edited  in  pamphlet  form  by  Dean  Goulburn. 


58 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGHT. 


they  seek  to  take  His  life.  And  after  this  is  over,  we  read 
how  His  own  disciples  come  to  Him  again  and  own  Him 
for  their  "  Master."  (St.  John  ix.  2.) 

Now,  we  Christians  believe  that  in  this  scene  we  have  a 
prophecy  of  the  whole  history  of  Christ's  life  in  His 
Church — the  story  of  those  who  come  and  of  those  who 
go — of  those  who  believe  in  Him  at  first  and  of  those  who 
cease  to  believe  in  Him,  and  the  inner  history  too  of  those 
who  never  forsake  Him.  We  believe  that  when  the  noisy 
strife  of  tongues  has  passed  away  and  the  execrations  of 
those  who  hate  Him  have  ceased,  there  will  still  be  heard 
the  voice  of  the  Church  saying  as  of  old,  "  Lord,  to  whom 
shall  we  go  ?  Thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal  life."  But 
it  is  not  on  those  who  thus  stay  with  Christ  that  I  ask 
you  to-night  to  fix  your  attention.  I  ask  you  to-night  to 
contemplate  with  me,  not  those  who  remain  with  Him,  but 
those  who  leave  Him.  I  ask  you  to  try  and  understand  a 
little  of  that  mental  history  of  theirs  which  is  here  shown 
us,  telling  how  they  passed  from  belief  to  doubt  and  from 
doubt  to  rejection.  It  will  be  profitable  to  us,  I  think, 
both  to  those  who  believe  and  to  those  (if  there  are  such 
here)  who  unhappily  disbelieve  in  Christ,  that  we  should 
study  this  instance  of  early  free-thought  and  disbelief. 
It  will  be  good  for  those  who  do  not  believe  in  Christ  to 
look  at  this  scene,  because  at  least  it  will  show  them  this 
fact — that  from  the  very  first  there  were  those  who  did 
disbelieve  in  Christ.  It  will  show  them  this  fact — that 
Christianity  is  not  a  religion  whose  origin  is  lost  in  the 
remote  and  dim  distance  of  time — a  legendary  faith  of 
which  no  one  can  say  when  it  began,  who  first  taught  it, 
or  who  first  believed  it.  It  will  show  them  Christianity 
rising  in  historical  times,  and  contending  from  the  very 
first  with  unbelief :  not  ignorantly,  not  without  question 
or  dispute,  received  among  men,  but  succeeding  in  spite 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGHT. 


59 


of  the  question  and  notwithstanding  the  dispute.  It 
will  show  them  that  free-thought  is  as  old  at  least  as 
Christianity  itself ;  and  then  it  may  occur  to  them,  when 
they  read  how,  long  ago,  men  had  the  same  doubts  and 
the  same  difficulties  they  feel  they  have  now,  it  may  occur 
to  them  that  after  all  there  must  be  some  wonderful  power 
in  that  faith  which  struggled  into  general  acceptance,  in 
spite  of  those  doubts  and  difficulties  ;  that  there  must  be 
some  marvellous  vitality  in  a  belief  which  has  survived 
eighteen  hundred  years  of  the  assaults  of  unbelief — some- 
thing at  least  worth  enquiring  into.  This  bush  that  is 
ever  burning  and  never  consumed  is  at  least  worth  just 
turning  aside  to  look  at — is  it  not  ?  And,  then,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  will  be  good  for  us  who  believe  to  look 
at  these  early  unbelievers :  good  for  us  not  only  for  this 
reason — that  it  strengthens  our  faith  to  know  that  un- 
belief is  no  new  thing,  and  that  as  Christianity  has  sur- 
vived eighteen  centuries  of  unbelief,  it  may  survive  more 
— but  good  for  another  and  a  better  reason  :  that  it  teaches 
us  to  try  and  understand  the  feelings  and  the  reasonings 
of  those  who  do  not  believe — teaches  us  to  try  and  do, 
what  we  always  should  do  with  those  who  differ  from  us, 
try  and  put  ourselves  in  their  place :  try  to  understand 
how  it  is  and  why  it  is  they  do  not  agree  with  us :  make 
all  allowance  for  the  honesty  of  their  disbelief;  try  and 
enter  thoroughly,  if  we  can,  into  their  motives  and 
feelings.  If  we  do  not,  we  are  in  danger  of  becoming 
hard  and  unloving,  and  our  contentions  for  Christ  narrow 
and  bitter  and  unjust — contending  for  Him,  but  not  in 
His  spirit — forgetting  that  there  is  not  one  of  those  who 
disbelieve  in  Him  for  whom  He  has  not  died — forgetting 
that  the  unbeliever  is  not  an  enemy  to  be  driven  back 
from  the  fortress  of  faith,  but  is  an  exile  to  be  won  back 
by  loving  words  and  earnest  reasoning  to  the  home  of 


60  CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGHT. 


liis  Father.  As  we  look  out  from  the  fortress  of  our 
Christianity,  lighted  up  with  the  light  that  we  believe 
to  be  of  Heaven,  let  us  learn  to  see  how  the  very  light 
of  it  may  be  reflected  back  from  the  faces  of  its  assailants. 
Let  us  strive  above  all  things  that  in  these  sermons  and  in 
all  our  arguments  for  Christianity  we  may  be  filled  with 
the  Spirit  of  Him  for  whom  we  plead,  and  that  while  we 
manifest  the  truth  we  may  manifest  it  in  love. 

We  ask  you,  then,  to  contemplate  this  scene  in  which, 
as  I  have  said,  Christ  is  seen  winning  and  losing  disciples, 
and  learn  something1  for  our  own  teaching  from  the  facts 
there  set  forth. 

The  first  thing  we  have  to  remark  upon  in  this  scene 
is  this — how  very  little  those  who  come  and  go  seem  to 
be  influenced  by  what  we  should  call  "  the  evidences  of 
Christianity."  Although,  doubtless,  they  were  drawn  to 
Christ  by  the  fame  of  His  miracles,  it  does  not  seem  to 
have  been  His  miracles  that  converted  them.  It  was 
"  as  He  spake  these  words,  many  believed  on  Him."  Some- 
thing that  He  said  attracted  them  to  Him.  And  again, 
when  they  left  Him,  it  was  not  because  they  doubted 
about  His  miracles — not  because  they  had  detected  in  Him 
any  inability  to  work  miracles,  but  because  something  He 
said  offended  them.  They  came  to  Him  not  altogether  in 
consequence  of  His  miracles,  and  they  left  Him  in  spite  of 
His  miracles.  "What  does  this  teach  us  ?  It  teaches  us 
again  what  I  have  said  in  the  first  place,  that  the  religion 
of  Christ  was  not  received  in  the  very  first  instance  un- 
questioningly — not  even  because  of  His  miracles — and  that 
in  spite  of  His  miracles  men  ventured  to  question  His  doc- 
trine. And,  therefore,  those  who  tell  you  that  Christianity 
was  received  in  an  ignorant  age,  because  men  thought  they 
saw  miracles  to  prove  it,  say  what  is  contradicted  by  the 
story  of  Christianity  itself,  and  forget  that  many  of  those 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FEEE-THOUGHT. 


61 


who  saw  the  miracles  nevertheless  rejected  the  worker  of 
the  miracles.  But  there  is  another  reason  why  we  should 
note  this,  and  it  is  to  observe  the  power  of  prejudice  and 
passion  in  influencing  men's  beliefs  and  disbeliefs.  There 
are  very  few  men  in  this  world  who  believe  strictly  in 
accordance  with  their  reasoning  faculty.  The  passions, 
the  desires,  the  prejudices  of  men  largely  share  in  the 
making  of  their  beliefs.  And  if  this  be  true  of  their  belief 
— and,  unhappily,  it  is  true — it  is  equally  true  of  their 
unbelief.  Are  you  quite  sure  (if  there  are  those  here  who 
do  not  believe)  that  your  unbelief  is  altogether  the  result 
of  a  calm  and  thoughtful  and  careful  study  of  all  that 
Christianity  has  to  say  for  itself?  Are  you  sure  that 
you  have  not  hastily  taken  up  some  objection  against 
Christianity  without  waiting  for  the  answer,  or  waiting  to 
study  the  answer  ?  Are  you  quite  sure  it  has  not  been 
some  word  of  Christ  that  you  have  misunderstood,  as  these 
Jews  misunderstood  it ;  some  saying  of  Christ  or  of  an 
advocate  for  Christ  that  has  offended  you,  and  that  you 
turned  away  without  waiting  for  the  answer  ?  Are  you  quite 
sure  that  there  is  no  unreason  in  your  unbelief,  you  who  tell 
us  so  often  that  there  is  so  little  reason  in  our  belief?  It  is 
because  I  am  deeply  convinced  of  this  that,  among  other 
reasons,  I  am  here  to-night.  It  is  because  I  do  believe  that 
misconception,  prejudice,  and  the  hasty  adoption  of  other 
men's  opinions  upon  very  slender  ground  make  a  large 
part  of  unbelief,  as  I  am  ready  to  admit  they  make  often 
too  large  a  part  of  ignorant  belief ;  it  is  because  I  believe 
that  these  misconceptions,  these  misunderstandings,  these 
prejudices  may  be  removed,  that  I  am  here  to  speak 
upon  the  subject  which  I  have  announced.  It  is  because  I 
believe  it  to  be  useless  to  argue  against  error  until  you 
have  first  stilled  passions  and  removed  prejudices  ;  it  is 
because  I  believe  it  to  be  as  useless  to  argue  with  a  man 


62 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGH  f. 


determined  not  to  hear  reason,  as  it  would  be  to  cast 
seed  upon  that  marble  pavement,  that  I  am  here  in  these 
sermons  not  so  much  to  deal  with  particular  arguments, 
or  particular  portions  of  the  evidences  of  Christianity,  as 
to  endeavour  to  remove  those  prejudices,  those  mistaken 
feelings  or  opinions,  which  make  men  unwilling  even  to 
listen  to  arguments  for  Christianity.  Those  who  will 
follow  me  here  will  bring  you  many  arguments  for 
Christianity.  I  am  about  to-night  but  to  lead  the  way, 
and  if  God  may  help  me  to  do  so,  to  prepare  your  minds 
to  listen  without  prejudice  to  what  they  shall  have  to  say. 

And  now  I  ask  you  to  turn  again  to  this  story,  and  to 
see  why  it  was  that  these  new  disciples  left  Christ.  It 
was  for  this  reason.  They  were  offended,  because  He 
appeared  to  deny  them  the  possession  of  liberty.  When 
they  had  become  His  disciples,  He  said  to  them,  "Ye 
shall  know  the  truth  and  the  truth  shall  make  you  free  ; " 
and  they  answered  Him,  "  We  be  Abraham's  seed,  and 
were  never  in  bondage  to  any  man  :  how  sayest  thou,  Ye 
shall  be  made  free  ?  "  He  had  offered  them  liberty,  and 
that  offer  implied  that  they  were  not  free,  and  this  they 
regarded  as  the  gravest  of  affronts.  "  What !  we  the 
children  of  Abraham — the  very  aristocracy  of  humanity 
— those  whom  the  Lord  delivered  long  ago  from  bondage 
in  Egypt,  '  with  a  mighty  hand  and  with  a  stretched  out 
arm,'  whose  slaves  are  we,  that  you  venture  to  offer  us 
freedom  ?  The  offer  is  an  absurdity  and  an  affront ;  you 
are  denying  us  freedom  by  the  very  words  in  which  you 
offer  it."  And  so  they  left  Him,  and  so  they  hated 
Him  for  what  they  deemed  an  insult  to  their  birthright 
of  freedom.  Now  we,  understanding  the  story,  can  see 
how  much  these  men  were  mistaken.  We  can  see  that  our 
Lord  was  offering  them  moral  freedom,  and  that  they 
supposed  He  was  speaking  about  political  freedom.  There 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGHT. 


63 


was  a  misunderstanding  between  Him  and  them  as  to  the 
nature  of  liberty.  He  offered  them  a  liberty  they  had 
no  desire  for,  and  He  denied  them  the  possession  of  a 
liberty,  the  nature  of  which  they  really  did  not  under- 
stand. It  was  a  dispute  about  liberty  between  Christ  and 
these  first  free-thinkers. 

Now,  is  there  any  like  dispute,  and  may  there  not  be 
a  like  misunderstanding  now  ?  What  is  the  subject  of  my 
sermon  to-night  ?  It  is,  "Christianity  and  Free- thought." 
Now,  before  you  came  here,  you  knew  what  you  meant  by 
free-thought,  or  you  thought  you  did,  at  least.  You 
understood  by  free-thought  something  opposed  to  Chris- 
tianity. By  a  free-thinker  you  understand  one  who  re- 
jects either  all  or  part  of  Christianity.  Why  do  such  men 
give  themselves  this  name  ?  Because  this  name  expresses 
their  conviction  that  Christianity  is  opposed  to  freedom 
of  thought — that  it  puts  a  restraint  upon  the  freedom 
of  the  human  intellect.  The  cry  of  such  men  is  this  : 
"  Your  Christianity  shackles  the  human  mind.  I  boast 
of  my  freedom.  You  require  me  to  submit  the  freedom 
of  my  intellect  to  the  authority  of  a  book  or  of  a  man 
who  lived  years  ago.  My  mind  resists  such  attempts  at 
fettering  it.  I  submit  to  no  authority.  I  reject  all  claim 
to  overrule  the  very  wildest  freedom  of  my  intellect.  You 
priests,  you  bigots,  who  come  to  me  with  authority,  and 
threaten  me  with  penalties  for  daring  to  think  for  myself, 
you  are  convicting  yourselves  of  falsehood  before  you 
utter  another  word.  I  cannot  stop  to  listen  to  your  evi- 
dences of  Christianity,  when  upon  the  very  face  of  it  you 
bear  this  stamp  of  falsehood  that  you  are  opposed  to  free- 
dom. You  may  say  what  you  like  about  the  evidence 
of  prophecy  or  miraele  :  no  evidence  of  prophecy  or 
miracle  will  make  me  give  up  my  freedom  of  thought." 
Have  you  never  heard  this  ?    How  often  do  you  hear  this 


64 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGHT. 


opposition  insisted  upon  between  the  bigotry  of  tbe  priest 
and  tbe  teacher  of  Christianity,  and  the  "  enlightened 
free-thought  of  the  age  !  "  Here,  then,  we  have  the 
issue  distinctly  raised  between  Christianity  and  free- 
thought.  Let  us  understand  it,  then,  very  clearly,  before 
we  go  further. 

It  is  quite  true  that  Christianity  does  come  with  a 
claim  of  authority.  It  is  quite  true  that  Christianity  does 
say  to  men,  "  Believe  this,  because  Christ  has  said  it." 
He  teaches  men  now,  as  He  taught  them,  we  believe, 
long  ago,  "  with  authority."  And  it  is  also  true  that 
Christianity  does  warn  men  of  certain  penalties,  very 
heavy  and  grievous  penalties,  that  will  follow  if  they  do 
not  believe  what  Christ  says.  Christianity,  then,  has 
authoritative  teaching,  and  teaching  accompanied  by  a 
threat  of  penalties.  That  is  perfectly  true.  Xow  we  are 
told  that  here  is  just  the  point  where  Christianity  comes 
into  collision  with  free-thought.  Free-thought  will  not 
endure  to  hear  of  authority,  and  resents  the  very  idea  of 
penaltv.  I  think  I  have  fairly  put  before  you  the  issue 
between  Christianity  and  free-thought. 

Now,  to  understand  this,  of  course  it  is  necessary  that 
we  should  clearly  define  to  ourselves  what  is  free-thought. 
The  word  is  very  often  on  men's  lips  now-a-days,  but  I 
am  not  quite  so  sure  that  men  really  understand  what  they 
mean  by  it.  Let  us  try  and  understand  it  to-night.  What 
is  free-thought  ?  Free-thought  may  mean  one  of  three 
things.  It  may  mean  freedom  as  opposed  to  necessity  ; 
or  it  mav  mean  freedom  as  opposed  to  authority  ;  or  it 
may  mean  freedom  as  opposed  to  responsibility. 

As  regards  the  first  of  these.  By  freedom  as  opposed 
to  necessity  we  mean  this — that  a  man  is  free  to  think  in 
one  way  or  another  ;  that  it  is  not  an  absolute  necessity 
for  him  always  to  think  in  one  way  or  another — that  is  to 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGHT. 


65 


say,  that  his  thought  is  not  a  necessary  product  of  his 
physical  constitution  ;  that  his  thoughts  do  not  grow  in 
him  and  out  of  him  as  the  blade  grows  out  of  the  seed,  or 
the  flower  out  of  the  plant — that  thought  is  not  mechani- 
cally necessary,  but  that  a  man  has  the  power  to  will  or 
choose  how  he  will  think.  When  we  say  freedom  as 
opposed  to  authority  we  mean  this — that  a  man  is  not 
bound  to  think  in  a  particular  way  because  he  knows  that 
somebody  else  thinks  so  :  that  is,  that  his  thought  is  not 
to  be  subjected  in  any  way  to  the  thought  of  any  other, 
and  that  he  has  a  right  to  say  to  any  teacher,  no  matter 
how  accredited,  "  That  is  your  opinion,  but  this  is  mine." 
And  the  meaning  of  freedom  as  opposed  to  responsibility 
of  course  is  this — that  a  man  is  in  no  way  answerable  for 
his  belief,  and  tbat  whatever  he  thinks  about  any  subject, 
he  is  never  to  suffer  for  his  thought  in  any  way  whatever. 
These  are  the  only  three  possible  meanings  of  free-thought. 
Let  us  take  them  one  by  one  and  see  what  Christianity 
has  ±o  do  with  each  of  these. 

In  the  first  place,  freedom  as  opposed  to  necessity. 
Does  religion  deny — does  Christianity  deny — to  men  this 
freedom  ?  On  the  contrarj%  it  asserts  and  vindicates  it. 
Christianity  teaches  that  man  is  free — ay,  terribly  free 
— to  will  his  own  belief,  when  it  teaches  us  that  man  is 
answerable  for  his  belief,  because  men  cannot  be  answer- 
able for  that  over  which  they  have  no  choice  or  power 
whatever.  If  a  man  has  no  more  power  over  his  belief 
than  he  has  over  the  colour  of  his  hair,  then  he  is  no  more 
responsible  for  his  belief  than  he  is  for  the  colour  of  his 
hair  ;  but  if  he  is  answerable  for  his  belief  then  that  can 
only  be  because  he  has  the  power  of  choosing  or  willing 
how  he  will  believe  or  think.  And,  therefore,  the  religion 
which  tells  you  that  man  is  answerable  for  his  belief,  tells 
you  that  he  is  free  in  his  thought.    And  it  is  a  very  re- 

F 


66 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGHT. 


markable  and  a  very  strange  thing  that  it  is  the  very- 
people  who  call  themselves  free-thinkers — many  of  them 
at  least — who  most  strongly  insist  upon  the  fact  that  man 
is  not  answerable  for  his  belief;  who  are  always  telling 
you  that  man  is  no  more  answerable  for  his  belief  than  he 
is  for  his  height  or  the  colour  of  his  eyes.  So  you  see  it 
is  these  very  men  who  in  this  respect  are  denying  the 
freedom  of  thought,  because  you  can  only  show  that  man 
is  not  responsible  by  showing  that  he  is  not  free,  for  free- 
dom and  responsibility  always  go  together.  Christianity 
therefore  in  this  respect,  in  this  view  of  free-thought,  so 
far  from  denying  it,  asserts  it  against  many  free-thinkers, 
and  in  this  respect  it  is  the  Christian  who  is  the  real 
free-thinker  and  who  maintains  the  doctrine  of  free- 
thought. 

But,  in  the  next  place,  it  is  said  that  freedom  of  thought 
is  opposed  to  all  authority  ;  and  we  are  told  that  thought 
cannot  be  free  if  it  submits  to  authority.  I  ask  you 
particularly  to  mark  and  to  attend  to  this.  It  is  quite 
true  that  the  abstract  idea  or  notion  of  freedom  is  opposed 
to  the  abstract  idea  of  authority  in  thought  and  religion. 
Quite  true.  But  it  is  equally  true  that  these  are  so  op- 
posed in  everything  else.  It  is  just  as  true  in  politics, 
that  the  idea  of  freedom  is  opposed  to  the  idea  of  authority. 
Where  there  is  absolute  freedom,  you  cannot  understand 
how  there  can  be  any  authority,  and  where  there  is  abso- 
lute authority,  you  cannot  understand  how  there  can  be 
any  freedom.  If  you  start  from  the  maxim,  Man  is  free, 
you  arrive  logically  at  the  conclusion  that  there  can  be  no 
authority.  If  you  start  with  the  axiom,  Authority  is 
supreme,  you  arrive  logically  at  the  conclusion  that  there 
is  no  room  for  liberty.  The  two  ideas,  if  you  think  of 
them  in  your  mind,  are  logically  opposed  the  one  to  the 
other  ;  but  are  they  so  really  in  practice  ?    Is  it  true  that 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGHT. 


67 


freedom  is  found  practically  inconsistent  with  authority  ? 
Is  it  not  true  that  men  contrive  to  reconcile  them  every 
day  and  all  day  long  ?  Is  it  not  quite  true,  for  instance, 
in  the  matter  of  opinion,  that  although  opinion  or  thought 
is  free,  yet  that  thought  is  always  submitting  itself  freely 
to  authority  ?  Have  you  ever  considered  how  many  of 
your  most  cherished  opinions  you  are  receiving  on 
authority — not  because  you  have  proved  them  for  your- 
selves, but  because  you  have  taken  them  from  some  one 
who  you  believe  knows  more  than  you  do  ?  You  take  the 
opinion  of  your  lawyer  on  law  as  an  authority ;  you  take 
the  opinion  of  your  doctor  on  medicine  as  an  authority ; 
you  take  the  opinion  of  your  friends  and  neighbours  on 
many  points  as  an  authority.  Morality  itself  rests  very 
largely  on  authority.  We  are  always  submitting  ourselves 
to  authority.  So  that  though  it  is  true  that  freedom  and 
authority  are  opposed,  if  you  come  to  think  of  them 
logically ;  yet  it  is  equally  true  that  there  never  was  a 
case  yet  in  which  the  two  did  not  come  together  the 
moment  you  set  them  free.  They  are  like  those  chemical 
elements  which  have  a  strong  affinity  for  each  other,  and 
are  never  found  apart  in  nature.  You  may  find  them 
apart  in  the  laboratory  of  the  chemist,  who  has  anal}rsed 
and  separated  them,  but  the  moment  you  let  them  out  of 
the  laboratory  they  come  together  again.  It  is  just  the 
same  with  free-thought  and  authority.  Men  are  always 
submitting  themselves  to  authority.  They  do  it  readily. 
The  more  free  a  man's  thought,  the  more  readily  and 
inevitably  it  submits  itself  to  authority.  The  hardest 
thing  in  the  world  is  to  get  men  away  from  the  influence 
of  authority.  They  are  always  submitting  themselves  to 
it,  and  legitimately  and  rightly  ;  for,  if  they  did  not  do 
so,  they  would  never  know  or  learn  anything  ;  and  when 
we  speak  of  the  authority  of  revelation,  or  of  a  teacher 


68 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGHT. 


who  comes  from  God,  we  mean  that  he  submits  to  the 
judgment  of  your  free-thought  his  reasons  why  you  should 
believe  that  he  knows  more  about  the  things  he  has  to 
teach  than  you  do.  This  is  really  a  part  and  a  very  large 
part  of  what  is  called  the  evidence  of  miracles.  Men 
speak  as  if  miracles  were  evidences  of  morals.  We  do 
not  say  that  you  are  to  believe  our  Lord  when  He  says, 
"  Whatsoever  ye  would  that  men  should  do  unto  you, 
even  so  do  unto  them,"  because  He  works  miracles  ;  but 
we  say  that  we  are  to  believe  Him,  because  He  has  come 
down  into  our  world  to  tell  us  of  another  world  of  which 
He  knows  and  we  do  not,  and  gives  us  evidence  by  won- 
der and  by  miracle,  by  bringing  down  the  supernatural 
and  showing  it  before  our  eyes,  that  He  does  know  more 
than  we  do.  Let  me  give  you  a  simple  illustration  of  this. 
Let  us  suppose  that  you  were  walking  through  one  of  the 
graveyards  of  this  city  in  company  with  another,  and  that 
the  discourse  fell  upon  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  and 
that  you  were  arguing  that  it  was  impossible — that  there 
was  no  authority  to  prove  it — and  suppose  that  the  person 
walking  with  you  said,  "  I  know  more  than  you  do 
about  this  ;  I  know  that  there  can  be  a  resurrection  of  the 
dead ;  and  I  will  give  you  a  proof  that  I  do  know  more 
than  you  do  ;  "  and  suppose  that  stretching  out  his  hand 
he  bade  the  dead  in  that  graveyard  arise,  and  that  they 
sprang  up  alive  out  of  the  earth  where  they  had  been 
sleeping,  do  you  mean  to  say — is  there  any  one  in  this 
congregation  who  would  say,  if  he  saw  that  miracle — that 
the  person  who  had  wrought  it  would  be  no  authority  on 
the  question  of  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  or  that  it 
would  be  any  tyranny  over  his  free-thought  to  say, 
"  Believe  this  person  "  ?  Your  free-thought,  because  it 
is  free,  would  immediately  ally  itself  with  the  authority  of 
the  person  who  had  done  this  thing.    So  you  see  freedom 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE- THOUGHT. 


69 


of  thought  is  not  inconsistent  with  the  authority  we  claim 
for  the  Christian  revelation  :  for  this  reason,  that  the 
revelation  submits  its  proof  to  your  free-thought,  and 
unless  you  accept  its  proof,  of  course  you  cannot  accept  its 
authority  ;  but  if  you  do  accept  it,  you  do  not  lose  your 
freedom  ;  on  the  contrary,  you  are  asserting  and  acting 
upon  your  freedom.  I  am  not  saying  now  that  I  have 
proved  these  miracles  of  Christianity  (that  will  be  done 
by  others),  I  only  say  that  when  in  the  name  of  these 
miracles  we  claim  authority  for  information  about  the 
other  world,  we  are  not  violating  free-thought ;  on  the 
contrary  we  are  appealing  to  your  free-thought  and  your 
judgment.  "I  speak  as  to  wise  men:  judge  ye  what  I 
say." 

Now,  I  come  to  the  third  idea  of  freedom, — that  is 
freedom  as  opposed  to  responsibility, — and  this  is  what 
I  really  believe  most  men  mean,  when  they  talk  about 
free-thought  as  opposed  to  Christianity.  They  say,  "  You 
threaten  us  with  penalties  for  disbelieving,  and  our  whole 
soul  revolts  against  this.  Why !  it  would  be  an  unjust 
thing,  it  would  be  a  tyrannical  thing  for  a  man  to  punish 
his  fellow-man  for  his  opinions  ;  m  would  not  do  that ; 
and  do  you  mean  to  say  God  will  be  less  just  and  merciful 
than  man,  and  that  God  will  punish  us  because  of  our 
opinions,  when  you  admit  that  man  would  not  and  should 
not  do  so  ?  "  Let  us  see  that  we  clearly  understand  this. 
This  objection  goes  upon  the  presumption  that  no  man 
ought  to  suffer  or  be  punished  for  his  opinions  :  and  with 
regard  to  this,  I  want  you  to  consider  two  questions.  Is 
it  true  that  no  man  ought,  under  any  circumstances,  to  be 
punished  for  his  opinions  ?  And  in  the  next  place,  is  it 
true  that  men  do  not  suffer  for  their  opinions  ?  Is  it  true 
that  no  man  ought  to  be  punished  for  his  thoughts  ? 
Now,  it  is  quite  true  that  so  long  as  he  keeps  those 


70  CHRISTIANITY  AND  TREE-THOUGHT. 


thoughts  to  himself,  locked  up  in  his  own  breast,  he  will 
not  be  punished  for  them,  for  the  simple  reason  that 
until  the  thought  is  known  to  be  his  thought,  until  he 
gives  it  utterance  in  some  way,  it  is  impossible  for  him  to 
be  punished  for  it ;  but  if  he  does  give  it  utterance,  is  he 
never  to  be  punished  for  it  ?  If  a  man  utters  a  seditious 
thought,  if  he  utters  a  libellous  thought  about  his  neigh- 
bour, if  he  utters  a  foul  or  indecent  thought,  is  it  true 
that  he  is  not  to  be  punished  ?  Is  it  not  true  that  he 
will  be  punished  and  ought  to  be  punished  for  it  ?  And 
why  ?  Because  this  exercise  of  his  liberty  proves  in- 
jurious to  the  general  welfare ;  because  his  individual 
law  of  liberty  comes  into  collision  with  a  higher  law, 
and  must  give  way  to  it,  the  safety  of  all  being  of  more 
importance  than  the  freedom  of  one.  But  again,  there 
are  other  penalties  for  thought  besides  those  fixed  by  the 
law  of  the  State.  Society  punishes  a  man's  free-thought 
much  more  sharply  than  the  law  does.  There  are 
offences  of  thought  and  of  speech,  with  which  the  law 
does  not  and  ought  not  to  meddle,  but  which  society 
punishes  very  heavily.  Let  a  man  entertain  uncharitable 
thoughts,  suspicious  thoughts,  evil  and  unkind  thoughts 
of  his  neighbours — let  him  not  even  utter  them  in  speech, 
but  show  them  in  his  manner  and  look — let  his  fellow- 
men  know  that  he  thinks  ill  of  them  or  unjustly  of  them 
—  and  you  know  well  how  society  visits  on  that  man  this 
exercise  of  his  free-thought.  There  is  not  one  here  who 
does  not  know  that  if  all  the  thoughts  of  his  heart  were 
laid  bare  before  his  fellow-men,  he  would  pass  a  miserable 
(and  it  might  be  even  an  outcast)  existence,  because  society 
avenges  itself,  in  necessary  self-defence,  upon  all  such  in- 
jurious exercise  of  free-thought.  You  see,  therefore,  that 
society,  in  its  actings,  as  well  as  the  law,  does  make  men 
eifler  for  their  thoughts.    Take  a  step  further.  Pass 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGHT. 


71 


beyond  civil  law  and  the  constitution  of  society,  and  think 
for  a  moment  of  the  constitution  of  nature — of  the  laws 
which  govern  the  universe.  Do  those  laws  allow  of  free- 
thought  ?  Do  those  laws  allow  men  to  make  mistakes 
concerning  any  of  the  facts  of  nature  ?  Try  it.  Let  any 
man  think  wrongly  of  any  of  the  forces  of  nature,  and  let 
him  see  what  nature  will  do.  Let  him  freely  think  that 
fire  does  not  burn  or  water  drown,  let  him  think  that  fever 
is  not  infectious,  or  that  ventilation  is  unhealthy,  let  him 
think  wrongly  concerning  any  law  of  nature,  and  he  will 
find  that  he  will  be  visited  by  a  sharp  and  merciless 
punishment.  Those  who  talk  about  appealing  from 
Christianity  to  the  beneficent  laws  of  nature  forget  this 
fact,  that  there  are  no  laws  so  merciless, — so  utterly  un- 
forgiving,—  ay,  and  so  utterly  regardless  of  whether 
a  man  has  transgressed  ignorantly  or  purposely :  he 
who  transgresses  ignorantly  and  he  who  transgresses 
wilfully,  are  alike  beaten  with  many  stripes.  The 
great  machinery  of  the  world  will  not  arrest  it3  revolu- 
tions for  the  cry  of  a  human  creature  who  by  a  very 
innocent  error,  by  the  mistaken  action  of  his  free-thought, 
is  being  ground  to  pieces  beneath  them.  Slowly,  surely, 
relentlessly,  eternally  it  moves  on  ;  oppose  it  in  your  free- 
thought,  and  it  will  grind  you  to  powrder.  There  is  no 
room  for  free-thought  there.  Where  then  is  there  room 
for  free-thought  ?  Law  restrains  it,  society  punishes  it, 
science  laughs  at  it,  nature  crushes  it  out.  And  yet  not 
without  warnings  too.  Nature  and  science  have  their  priests 
and  their  prophets.  The  man  of  science  will  warn  you  of 
the  consequences  of  transgressing  the  laws  which  he  has  dis- 
covered. He  foresees  the  judgment  days  of  nature  that 
may  be  coming  in  your  life,  and  he  tells  you  you  are  free, 
perfectly  free,  to  think  differently  from  him, — you  exercise 
your  own  free- thought  about  it ;  but  you  do  it  at  your  own 


72 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGHT. 


proper  peril. — you  may  refuse  to  believe  him,  your  thought 
is  perfectly  free,  but  so  surely  as  you  do  it  you  suffer  for 
it.  And,  mark  you,  it  is  not  his  prophecy  that  has 
created  the  judgment.  It  is  not  his  warning  that  brings 
down  punishment  upon  you.  It  is  not  his  book  about 
sanitary  laws  that  brings  diphtheria  or  scarlet  fever  into 
your  house.  It  is  not  the  sinking  of  the  mercury  in  the 
glass  that  brings  on  the  storm.  The  written  prophecy  in 
the  one  case,  the  mute  prophecy  in  the  other,  foretell  the 
evil  but  they  do  not  create  it.  Xature  and  science  then 
have  their  warnings  and  threatenings  of  penalty,  and 
nature  and  science  avenge  themselves  upon  free-thought. 
And  mark  this  further  :  the  more  you  lose  sight  of  a 
personal  will,  the  more  you  have  to  do  with  law  and  the 
less  with  the  Lawgiver,  fainter  and  fainter  seems  to  grow 
the  chance  of  forgiveness,  less  and  less  room  does  there 
seem  to  be  for  free-thought.  Ah  !  there  is  something 
after  all  in  that  word,  "  I  believe  in  God  the  Father 
Almighty  ;  "  there  is  something  in  knowing  and  believing 
in  an  omnipotent  and  loving  will,  that  has  the  power  to 
save  the  free-thought  of  an  erring  creature  from  the 
terrible  punishment  which  comes  from  the  soulless  and 
merciless  machinery  of  law. 

And  now  that  we  have  seen  how  little  room  there  is  for 
free-thought  in  this  world  of  fact  and  this  world  of  law, 
let  us  consider  one  thought  and  one  fact  more.  Let  us 
introduce  into  this  world  of  existing  facts  and  acting 
principles  and  forces  one  additional  fact.  Let  us  introduce 
the  idea  and  the  fact  of  a  God.  Let  us  suppose  for  argu- 
ment's sake  that  there  is  a  God.  Can  it  be  possible  that 
it  should  be  a  matter  of  indifference  how  men  think  about 
this  new  fact  ?  Can  you  really  suppose  that  it  should  be 
a  matter  of  great  importance,  of  terrible  importance,  to 
men  how  they  think  about  the  very  least  fact  or  power  in 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FEEE-THOUGHT. 


73 


the  universe,  and  yet  that  it  should  be  a  matter  of  no  im- 
portance, a  matter  of  the  merest  indifference,  how  they 
think  concerning  the  great  fact  of  all  facts,  the  great  cause 
of  all  causes,  the  great  Lawgiver  who  gives  all  laws  ?  Can 
it  be  a  matter  of  indifference  who  He  is,  what  He  is,  how 
He  feels  towards  us,  how  we  should  feel  towards  Him  ? 
How  can  there  be  the  possibility  of  thought  without  con- 
sequences, as  regards  God,  if  there  be  no  possibility  of 
thought  without  consequences,  as  regards  the  very  least  of 
God's  works  ?  Does  it  make  no  difference  to  us  whether 
He  is  a  father  or  a  tyrant  ? — no  difference  to  us  whether 
He  can  or  will  not  hear  our  prayer  ? — no  difference  to  us 
whether  He  can  or  cannot  suspend  those  terrible  laws 
which  we  so  dread  ?  Is  there  really  room  then  for  this 
free-thought  about  God,  and  can  we  afford  to  dispense 
with  any  knowledge  we  have  concerning  this  God,  if  there 
be  one  ?  Can  anything  show  you  more  clearly  the  utter 
folly  and  absurdity  of  those  words  which  I  daresay  many 
of  you  have  heard  in  the  last  year,  "  Let  us  have  religion 
without  dogma — without  theology.  By  all  means  let  us 
have  religion,  but  no  theology."  Is  that  one  whit  more 
sensible  than,  "  Let  us  have  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  but  no 
astronomy  ;  let  us  have  plants  but  no  botany  ;  let  us 
have  chemicals  but  no  chemistry  ;  let  us  have  the  earth 
but  no  geology  "  ?  What  is  theology  ?  It  is  the  science 
of  God.  And  if  God  be  a  fact — mark  you,  I  say  if — there 
must  as  certainly  come  a  theology  out  of  that  fact  as  there 
comes  a  geology  out  of  the  fact  that  there  is  an  earth. 
Science  grows  out  of  the  facts  with  which  it  deals — grows 
out  of  them  by  a  natural  and  necessary  law  of  growth — 
and  science,  all  science  (not  theology  alone,  but  all  science) 
is  absolutely  intolerant  of  any  error  respecting  those  root 
facts  out  of  which  it  draws  and  according  to  which  it 
develops  its  life.     There  cannot  possibly  be  a  greater 


74  CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGHT. 


absurdity  than  for  a  man  to  talk  of  religion  without  a 
theology,  unless  that  man  by  "  religion  "  means  something 
utterly  different  from  what  everybody  else  means  by  the 
word.  By  religion  we  mean  something  that  teaches  our 
obligations  to  a  higher  Being  ;  and  that  there  cannot  be 
without  theology.  But,  at  any  rate,  if  there  be  a  God 
there  must  be  a  theology.  Now  I  ask  you  just  to  think 
what  is  that  creed  of  Christendom  which  we  all  repeat. 
Say  it  over  to  yourselves  when  you  go  home.  Nearly 
every  word  in  it  is  the  assertion  of  a  fact.  "  I  believe  in 
God  the  Father  Almighty  ;  in  Jesus  Christ  His  only  Son 
our  Lord ;  conceived  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  born  of  the 
Virgin  Mary ;  who  was  crucified,  dead,  and  buried,  de- 
scended into  hell,  rose  again  from  the  dead,  ascended  into 
Heaven  "  —  all  these  are  assertions  of  facts.  You  may  tell 
me  these  are  not  facts — that  is  another  question ;  but  all 
we  say  is,  if  they  be  facts,  you  are  just  as  much  bound  to 
think  rightly  about  these  facts  as  you  are  about  any  other 
facts ;  and  you  think  respecting  them  under  penalties  just 
as  much  and  no  more  than  you  think  under  penalties 
concerning  other  facts.  You  are  just  as  much  bound  to 
think  rightly  concerning  the  fact  which  we  call  God  as 
you  are  to  think  rightly  concerning  any  other  facts.  But, 
then,  men  will  say,  "  Your  facts  are  not  so  certain  as  those 
of  philosophy  and  of  science."  We  answer,  it  may  be  so 
to  you,  but  it  is  not  so  to  us  ;  to  us  they  are  realities  deep 
as  the  innermost  core  of  our  being  ;  to  us  they  are  facts 
as  certain  as  the  great  lights  in  heaven  ;  we  cannot  con- 
ceive the  possibility  of  our  doubting  them.  But  grant  for 
a  moment  that  all  we  can  say  is,  Perhaps  there  is  a  God, 
'perhaps  there  was  an  Incarnation  ;  we  have  a  right  to  say, 
if  that  perhaps  prove  to  be  a  certainty,  if  what  we  think 
possible  is  really  the  case,  then  if  you  think  wrongly 
about  it,  you  will  have  to  suffer  the  consequences  of  your 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGHT. 


75 


erroneous  thoughts.  If  when  the  man  of  science  puts  into 
your  hands  a  book  which  tells  you  of  sanitary  facts — of 
the  danger  of  infection — if  you  say,  as  too  many  men  do 
say,  "  We  do  not  believe  your  facts,  we  are  sceptical  about 
your  teachings,  we  will  go  on  as  we  have  done,  we  will 
suspend  our  judgment  at  least  till  you  give  us  clearer 
proof  " — what  will  be  his  answer  ?  "I  cannot  compel 
you  to  believe  ;  you  may  and  must  suspend  your  judgment 
if  you  do  not  believe,  but  meanwhile  you  will  suffer  ;  it 
may  be  the  proof  will  come  to  you  in  sickness  and  deatb, 
but  you  will  not  escape  merely  because  you  suspend  your 
judgment."  And  we  say  to  you,  not  in  anger,  not  in 
bitterness,  not  in  denunciation  of  God's  anger  upon  un- 
believers— (God  forgive  us  if  we  ever  speak  so) — but  we 
speak  to  you  in  the  same  tone  of  warning  and  not  of 
threatening,  in  the  same  tone  of  reasoning  and  of  entreaty 
and  not  of  denunciation,  as  the  man  of  science  does  ;  and 
we  say  to  you,  "  If  you  be  doubtful,  remember  that  while 
you  are  doubting,  time  is  passing ;  if  these  be  facts,  then 
you  are  imperilled  if  you  think  wrongly  about  them ; 
there  is  clanger  in  darkness  as  well  as  in  light ;  if  you  tell 
us  you  are  groping  in  the  dark,  then  we  say  take  heed 
how  you  grope — take  heed  lest  these  facts  prove  hurtful 
and  dangerous  to  you,  if  jrou  come  into  collision  with  them. 
We  cannot  alter  these  facts.  If  they  are  facts,  then  they 
have  a  bearing  upon  your  happiness,  just  as  much  as  facts 
in  the  natural  world  have." 

You  see,  then,  there  is  nothing  incompatible  with  free- 
thought,  there  is  no  violation  of  free-thought  in  religion 
a  whit  more  than  there  is  in  nature  or  in  science.  All 
we  say  to  you  is  this — that  the  consequences  of  thinking 
erroneously  concerning  the  facts  of  God's  nature  may  be 
as  certainly  perilous  to  you,  as  the  consequences  of  think- 
ing erroneously  concerning  the  physical  facts  in  your  own 


70 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGHT. 


nature,  or  in  the  world  around  you.  We  grant  you  the 
right  to  doubt  these  facts,  but  all  we  say  is  that,  when  we 
tell  you  that  error  about  these  facts  may  be  fraught  with 
serious  consequences  to  you,  we  no  more  violate  the  right 
of  free-thought  than  does  the  physician  who  tells  you 
that  error  about  facts  which  he  knows,  and  you  do  not 
know,  may  be  fraught  with  most  serious  evils  to  your 
bodily  health. 

And  now  I  trust  that  we  have  disposed — I  hope  you 
will  think  fairly — of  that  prejudice  which  lies  upon  the 
very  threshold  of  our  enquiry,  that  Christianity  is  opposed 
to  free-thought.  Then  to  sum  up  what  I  have  been  saying. 
If  free-thought  mean  freedom  as  opposed  to  necessity, 
religion  does  not  deny  this  ;  it  asserts  it.  If  it  mean 
freedom  as  opposed  to  authority,  religion  does  not  create  a 
contradiction  between  the  idea  of  freedom  and  the  idea  of 
authority  ;  and  it  is  just  as  easy  to  reconcile  the  fact  of 
freedom  and  authority  in  Christianity  as  it  is  in  the  State 
or  in  society.  And  if  by  freedom  of  thought  you  mean 
thought  without  consequences,  there  is  no  such  thing 
either  in  society  or  in  nature,  and  therefore  you  have  no 
right  to  expect  that  it  should  exist  in  Christianity.  There- 
fore we  do  maintain  that  in  all  that  is  really  implied  in 
the  word  "  free- thought,"  Christianity  is  not  that  which 
denies  it,  but  that  which  asserts  it.  Christianity  is  that 
which  gives  you  back  the  reality  of  freedom,  although  it 
gives  you  back  with  it  the  awful  responsibilities  of  freedom. 
Christianity  is  that  which  gives  you  a  possible  escape  from 
the  soulless  despotism  of  material  law,  in  the  merciful  will 
of  a  loving  Father.  Christianity  is  that  which  prophesies 
for  you  a  time  when  the  mysteries  which  now  cause  your 
free  thoughts  to  hang  in  suspense  shall  be  cleared  away. 
Christianity  is  that  which  gives  back  freedom  to  the 
conscience,  vigour  to  the  will ;  but  with  these  it  gives  you 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FREE-THOUGHT. 


77 


back,  as  I  have  said,  the  awful  responsibilities  of  a  free 
choice,  and  yet  an  infinite  blessing  in  the  power  to  make 
it.  Christianity  is  that  which  reveals,  ay,  and  proves  to 
you  great  truths  concerning  yourselves  and  concerning 
God,  and,  bringing  you  to  know  these  truths,  "  doth  make 
you  free." 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


Preached  in  Norwich  Cathedral,  March  29th,  1871. 

"  The  other  disciples  therefore  said  unto  him.  We  have  seen  the  Lord. 
But  he  said  unto  them,  Except  I  shall  see  in  His  hands  the  print  of  the 
nails,  and  put  my  finger  into  the  print  of  the  nails,  and  thrust  my  hand 
into  His  side,  I  will  not  believe." — St.  John  xx.  25. 

OUR  subject  to-night  is  Christianity  and  Scepticism,  and 
I  have  chosen  for  my  text  the  words  of  a  sceptic.  As 
such  St.  Thomas  has  always  been  regarded.  His  name 
has  become,  in  Church  history,  a  proverb  for  unbelief. 
Amongst  the  typical  characters  that  surround  our  Lord 
in  the  Gospel  story,  he  has  always  been  regarded  as  the 
type  of  the  doubter  ;  he  is  known  as  the  doubting  or  unbe- 
lieving Thomas.  And  yet  at  first  sight  we  hardly  see 
why  he  sbould  be  so  called.  It  is  true  that  he  doubted ; 
but  his  doubt  does  not  at  first  seem  either  so  very  unrea- 
sonable or  so  very  obstinate  that  he  should  be  called,  by 
way  of  distinction,  the  doubter,  the  unbeliever.  It  was 
not  unreasonable, — on  the  contrary,  it  was  reasonable 
and  natural, — that  he  should  feel  some  doubt  respecting 
the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ.  Others  had  doubted  as 
well  as  he,  and  they  were  called  "  fools  and  slow  of  heart 
to  believe"  ;  and  yet  they  did  not  inherit  the  name  of  the 
doubters.  Nor  was  his  disbelief  of  a  very  obstinate  kind. 
It  seems  to  have  yielded  almost  instantaneously  to  evi- 
dence, and  immediately  after  he  had  seen  what  he  asked 
to  see,  he  gave  utterance  to  a  confession  of  faith  which 

G 


82 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


was  really  in  advance  of  his  time, — he  said  more  for  Christ 
than  many  others  of  his  disciples  perhaps  would  then  have 
said, — he  said,  "My  Lord  and  my  God."  He  not  only 
admitted  His  resurrection,  but  acknowledged  His  divinity ; 
and  yet  he  is  called  "  Thomas  the  doubter — the  sceptic." 
And  he  is  rightly  so  called.  The  Christian  consciousness 
did  not  err  when  it  gave  him  this  name.  For  when  he 
said  those  words,  "Except  I  shall  see  ....  I  will  not 
believe,"  he  uttered  that  which  is  the  very  essence  of 
scepticism.  He  suspended  his  belief  upon  a  condition 
which  destroys  the  nature  of  belief.  He  declared  that  he 
would  not  give  his  assent  to  the  truth  of  Christ's  resur- 
rection except  upon  this  condition — that  it  should  be 
made  for  him  absolutely  impossible  to  doubt.  "What  he 
said  to  his  brother  disciples  was  in  effect  this  :  "  You  tell 
me  that  you  have  seen  the  Lord,  but  I  cannot  believe  you. 
It  does  not  matter  how  clear  or  precise  your  testimony 
may  be,  how  truthful  I  believe  you  to  be, — I  will  not  be 
satisfied  about  that  which  you  tell  me  until  I  see  it  for 
myself.  I  will  not  accept  any  testimony  except  that  of 
my  own  senses." 

In  short,  he  declared  that  his  assent  was  only  to  be  had 
upon  absolute  demonstration.  And  I  say  that  this  condi- 
tion makes  all  belief  absolutely  impossible — belief  in  the 
proper  sense  of  the  word — for  belief  is  assent  upon  trust. 
Where  we  have  absolute  demonstration  of  anything,  the 
result  is  not  belief  at  all.  It  is  knowledge.  "What  we  see 
with  the  eyes  of  our  body  or  of  our  mind  we  do  not,  pro- 
perly speaking,  believe  in ;  we  know  it ;  we  have  for  it 
the  certainty,  not  of  faith,  but  of  science.  Where  doubt 
is  absolutely  impossible,  there  belief  or  faith  is  also  im- 
possible. You  have  certainty,  but,  as  I  have  said,  it  is 
the  certainty  of  knowledge ;  it  is  not  the  certainty  of 
faith.    Therefore  if  any  one  makes  it  a  condition  of  his 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


83 


assent  to  a  proposition  of  any  kind  that  it  shall  first  be 
made  as  clear  to  him  as  that  two  and  two  make  four,  and 
if  there  be  any  truth  or  class  of  truths  which  cannot  be 
made  thus  clear  and  plain — that  is,  if  there  be  any  truth 
or  class  of  truths  which  cannot  be  demonstrated, — he 
who  makes  demonstration  a  condition  of  his  assent  must 
always  be  in  doubt  about  that  truth  or  class  of  truths 
— that  is  to  say,  he  must  always  be  respecting  these  a 
sceptic. 

Now  it  is  quite  clear  that  the  Christian  religion  is  one 
of  a  class  of  truths  which  cannot  be  demonstrated  scien- 
tifically. We  cannot, — no  one  that  ever  lived  could, — 
prove  to  you  that  there  is  a  God  in  the  same  way  that  we 
can  prove  to  you  that  two  and  two  make  four.  We  can- 
not do  this,  because  the  very  idea  of  Grod  is  that  He  is 
invisible.  The  very  first  utterance  of  our  religion  is  this  : 
"  I  believe  in  that  which  I  cannot  see ;  I  believe  in  the 
invisible  Grod."  Clearly,  therefore,  he  who  says,  "I  will 
not  believe  anything  that  I  do  not  see,"  must  always  be  a 
sceptic  as  to  the  truths  of  religion.  Thus,  although 
religion  is  by  no  means  the  only  collection  of  truths 
which  cannot  be  demonstrated,  yet  as  it  is  the  principal 
one,  and  as  it  is  the  one  that  especially  deals  with  the 
invisible,  it  has  come  to  pass  that  although  there  have 
been  and  are  sceptics  about  other  subjects  and  other 
beliefs  besides  religion,  yet  a  sceptic  is  generally  under- 
stood to  be  a  man  who  doubts  about  religious  subjects — 
a  man  who  will  not  believe  the  truths  of  Christianity 
because  they  cannot  be  demonstrated  in  that  way  in 
which  alone  he  thinks  they  should  be  demonstrated. 

You  see,  then,  I  hope  clearly,  what  a  sceptic  is  and 
what  scepticism  is.  By  the  word  sceptic  we  do  not  mean 
simply  an  unbeliever  in  the  truths  of  religion.  A  man. 
may  disbelieve  every  one  of  the  truths  of  Christianity, 


84 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


and  yet  not  be  a  sceptic,  because  be  may  disbelieve  tbem 
for  tbis  reason — tbat  be  believes  sometbing  else  tbat  is 
different  from  and  opposed  to  tbem.  For  instance,  a  Jew 
does  not  believe  many  of  tbe  trutbs  of  Christianity,  and 
yet  we  do  not  call  tbe  Jew  a  sceptic.  He  believes  in 
Moses,  although  he  does  not  believe  in  Christ,  and  it  is 
because  be  believes  in  Moses  tbat  he  thinks  be  must  not 
bebeve  in  Christ.  In  the  same  way  we  should  not  call  a 
deist,  a  pantheist,  or  an  atheist  a  sceptic.  Every  one  of 
these  has  got  a  fixed  and  definite  belief.  Some  of  their 
beliefs  we  think  very  monstrous, — some  of  their  beliefs 
we  think  make  a  greater  demand  upon  their  faith  than 
ours  does  upon  our  faith.  "We  think  that  the  man  who 
says  there  is  no  God  is  far  more  credulous,  believes  in  spite 
of  far  greater  difficulties  and  contradictions,  than  the  man 
who  says  there  is  a  God ;  but  still  be  is  a  believer  after 
bis  own  fashion.  He  believes  in  what  we  think  a  per- 
fectly monstrous  creed,  but  he  has  a  creed,  and  be  is  firmly 
convinced  of  the  truth  of  it.  He  is  not  a  sceptic  then ; 
he  is  an  unbeliever,  or,  more  properly  speaking,  a  mis- 
believer :  be  believes  •'something  else  than  Christianity. 
Again,  we  do  not  call  every  doubter  a  sceptic.  Every 
sceptic  is  a  doubter,  but  every  doubter  is  not  necessarily 
a  sceptic.  A  man  may  doubt  tbe  truths  of  religion  only 
because  he  has  not,  as  he  thinks,  sufficient  evidence  of  the 
proper  kind ;  but  a  sceptic  is  one  who  demands  evidence 
of  an  improper  and  unreasonable  kind.  For  instance — a 
man  may  doubt  tbe  truth  of  any  assertion  in  history,  for 
this  reason,  that  he  thinks  he  has  sufficient  evidence  to 
show  him  that  the  historian,  or  the  witnesses  of  the 
alleged  fact,  were  untruthful  or  ill-informed.  "We  should 
not  call  that  man  a  sceptic,  for  he  douhts  reasonably.  But 
if  he  were  to  say,  "  I  do  not  believe  tbis  statement  in  his- 
tory, because  I  doubt  all  human  testimony ;  because  it  is 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


85 


at  least  possible — you  cannot  deny  that  it  is  possible — 
tbat  the  person  who  years  ago  first  told  this  story  might 
have  been  a  liar ;  and,  inasmuch  as  you  cannot  give  me 
positive  proof  that  he  was  not  a  liar,  I  will  not  believe  his 
evidence."  Then  we  should  call  that  man  a  sceptic, 
because  in  matters  historical  he  is  demanding  an  impos- 
sible and  an  unreasonable  kind  of  evidence. 

I  hope  I  have  made  it  quite  clear  to  you,  then,  that  it 
is  not  doubt  which  constitutes  scepticism  ;  that  what  really 
makes  a  man  a  sceptic  is, — not  his  doubt,  but  the  reason 
for  his  doubt, — not  that  he  asks  for  evidence,  but  that  he 
asks  for  that  kind  of  evidence  which  in  the  nature  of  the 
case  it  is  neither  possible  nor  reasonable  that  he  should 
have.  This  is,  properly  speaking,  scepticism.  If  you 
understand  this  clearly,  you  will  see,  in  the  next  place, 
that  as  there  may  be  doubt  without  scepticism,  so,  on  the 
other  hand,  there  may  be  belief,  or  at  least  assent,  upon 
thoroughly  sceptical  principles.  It  is  quite  possible  to  be 
firmly  persuaded  of  certain  truths  of  religion,  and  yet  to 
be  in  heart,  though  unconsciously,  really  a  sceptic.  Sup- 
pose, for  instance,  a  man  were  to  say,  "  I  cannot  believe 
in  the  existence  of  a  God  until  I  have  it  demonstrated  as 
clearly  as  that  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to 
two  right  angles ; "  and  suppose  that  he  were  to  invent 
for  himself  a  proof  which  made  this  truth  as  clear  to  his 
mind  as  that  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to 
two  right  angles, — then  what  is  he  ?  He  really  is  in 
principle  a  sceptic,  because  it  is  quite  clear  that  if  he 
could  not  have  made  his  proof  thus  mathematically  cer- 
tain he  would  have  doubted  of  God ;  that  is  to  say,  all  the 
time  he  assented  to  the  existence  of  a  God,  his  assent 
would  have  rested  not  upon  any  principle  of  faith  or  trust, 
but  upon  demonstration  only ;  and  that  whenever  the 
demonstration  broke  down — whenever  the  idea  of  a  God 


86 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


ceased  to  be  a  scientific  certainty  to  him — he  would  begin 
to  doubt  again.  Therefore  it  is  perfectly  clear  that  a  man 
may  believe  or  assent,  as  I  have  said,  and  yet  be  at  heart 
a  sceptic.  And  there  is  no  doubt  that  this  first  assent  of 
the  Apostle  Thomas  was  rendered  upon  thorough^  scep- 
tical principles.  He  had  said,  "  I  will  not  believe — 
though  all  the  other  Apostles  tell  me  they  have  seen  Him, 
I  will  not  believe  until  I  thrust  my  hand  into  the  side  of 
my  risen  Lord";  that  is  to  say,  "I  will  believe  nothing 
but  the  evidence  of  my  own  senses."  For  his  rebuke, 
and  for  our  teaching,  there  was  given  him  by  his  loving 
Lord  the  evidence  that  he  asked ;  and  thereupon  he 
believed,  but  on  strictly  sceptical  principles.  He  believed 
only  because  he  had  that  evidence  of  sense  that  he  asked 
for.  And  accordingly  it  is  very  remarkable  that  when 
our  Lord  gave  him  what  he  asked,  He  pronounced  no 
praise  upon  his  belief ;  He  did  not  say  to  him  what  He 
had  said  to  Simon,  "  Blessed  art  thou,  for  flesh  and  blood 
hath  not  revealed  it  unto  thee."  Flesh  and  blood,  and 
nothing  but  flesh  and  blood,  had  revealed  the  fact  of  the 
resurrection  to  Thomas,  and  therefore  to  him  our  Lord 
says,  "  Blessed  are  they  that  have  not  seen,  and  yet  have 
believed." 

As  it  is  possible,  then,  to  doubt  without  being  a  sceptic, 
so  it  is  possible  to  assent,  and  yet  to  be  a  sceptic  still.  Let 
us  dwell  a  little  on  this  point.  It  will  help  very  much  to 
illustrate  and  to  explain  what  I  am  going  to  say  to  you 
presently,  if  we  consider  a  little  further  this  subject  of 
believing  doubt  and  sceptical  belief.  I  shall  illustrate  it, 
or  rather  I  shall  ask  you  to  test  it  for  yourselves  by  the 
effect  upon  your  feelings  of  what  I  am  now  going  to  say. 
It  is  this  :  We  cannot  demonstrate  Christianity.  It 
is  utterly  impossible  that  I  can  give  you  a  demonstration 
of  Christianity  such  as  will  leave  no  possible  room  for 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


87 


doubt  or  question  in  your  minds.  Whec  the  advocates 
for  Christianity  who  will  follow  me  in  this  place  shall 
have  said  all  that  they  have  to  say — when  they  shall  have 
put  before  you  all  the  evidences  of  Christianity  in 
their  fulness  and  their  variety— when  they  shall  have 
shown  you  how  reasonable  it  is  to  believe  Christianity, 
how  much  more  reasonable  it  is  to  believe  than  to  dis- 
believe it — how  many  more  difficulties  there  are  in  the 
way  of  disbelieving  than  in  the  way  of  believing  it — 
when  they  shall  have  done  all  this,  there  will  still  be  room 
for  doubt  in  your  minds  ;  there  will  still  be  questions  to  be 
asked  which  they  cannot  fully  answer,  there  will  still  be 
difficulties  to  be  considered  that  cannot  be  entirely  ex- 
plained, and  that  no  man  that  ever  lived  could  entirely 
explain.  We  can  give  you  the  very  strongest  possible 
probability — we  can  give  you  the  very  highest  degree  of 
evidence  short  of  demonstration — for  believing  Christianity; 
but  ivc  cannot  demonstrate  it.    I  say  again,  We  cannot 

DEMONSTRATE  CHRISTIANITY. 

With  what  effect  does  this  announcement  fall  upon 
your  hearts  ?  Possibly  upon  some  with  a  feeling  of  dis- 
appointment. You  may  have  come  to  these  sermons 
expecting  to  go  away  from  them  with  your  faith  made  as 
clear  and  certain  to  you  as  that  two  and  two  make  four. 
You  may  exclaim — "  If,  after  all  you  say,  there  is  room 
for  doubt,  what  do  you  mean  by  talking  of  evidence  ? 
Evidence  leaves  no  room  for  doubt.  I  thought  you  were 
going  to  make  my  faith  so  certain  that  I  should  never 
doubt  again.  I  thought  you  were  going  to  answer  all 
questions,  to  silence  all  objections,  and  to  send  me  away 
with  a  mathematical  certainty  of  every  truth  in  my  creed. 
What  is  the  use  of  your  evidences,  if  you  cannot  do  this?  " 
Our  answer  is:  "If  we  could  give  you  the  same  kind  of 
proof  that  there  is  a  God  that  we  can  give  you  that  two 


88 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


and  two  make  four,  then  your  religion  would  do  just  as 
much  good  as  the  knowledge  that  two  and  two  make  four. 
It  would  not  cultivate  that  which  religion  was  meant  to 
cultivate  in  you,  and  that  is  the  quality  of  faith — of  belief 
in  spite  of  doubt, — of  assent  in  spite  of  difficulty."  What 
we  have  to  say  is  this :  "  We  cannot  demonstrate  Chris- 
tianity to  you,  but  we  can  give  you  sufficient  reason  for 
believing  it,  in  spite  of  doubt."    What  we  have  to  say  is 
this — and  listen  to  it,  you  who  believe  in  Christ :    "  The 
evidences  of  Christianity  are  weapons  to  be  put  into  the 
hands  of  every  one,  with  which  every  man  and  woman 
amongst  you  may  fight  out,  if  need  be,  in  the  temptation 
and  hurry  of  life,  or  in  the  solitude  of  your  chamber,  upon 
your  knees  before  God, — fight  out  in  the  innermost  citadel 
of  your  soul — the  desolating  and  besieging  doubts  that 
from  time  to  time  assail  it."    This  is  the  true  use  of  the 
evidences  of  Christianity.    They  are  not  meant  to  be  out- 
lying forts  far  away  from  the  citadel,  beyond  which  the 
enemy  is  compelled  to  remain,  and  within  which  he  may 
never  come  to  assail  your  soul's  life;  and  if  they  were  such 
impregnable  forts,  keeping  off  the  enemy  and  saving  you 
from  the  duty  of  fighting  him  in  your  own  soul,  then  the 
result  would  be — not  that  the  citadel  would  perish  by  the 
assault  of  the  enemy — that  would  be  impossible — but 
that  the  dwellers  in  the  citadel  would  die  for  want  of  food. 
The  faith  that  should  be  the  nutriment  of  your  souls 
would  perish  utterly,  and  your  girdle  of  impregna  ble  forts, 
your  unassailable  evidences,  would  at  last  enclose  within 
their  girth  no  living  thing.    The  "  shield  of  faith  "  is 
given  you  to  carry  upon  your  own  arm,  and  with  it  to 
"  quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked  one  "  ;  but  you 
must  carry  it  upon  your  own  arm.    Ay !  even  though 
your  arm  quiver  with  terror  at  the  sight  of  the  coming 
darts,  it  is  upon  your  own  arm  and  not  upon  that  of 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


89 


another  it  must  be  carried,  if  it  is  effectually  to  ward 
off  the  weapons  that  are  aimed  at  your  own  heart. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  in  this  fact  a  world  of 
comfort  for  the  doubter — the  real,  earnest,  and  distressed 
doubter — the  man  who  would  not  doubt  if  he  could  help 
it,  and  who  would  believe  if  he  could.  For  you  we  have 
this  message  :  Christianity  does  not  hate  and  excommuni- 
cate and  repel  every  doubter.  There  was  one  who  came 
long  ago  to  Christ  and  said,  "  Lord,  I  believe ;  help  thou 
mine  unbelief,"  whom  Christ  did  not  repel.  What  Chris- 
tianity is  intolerant  of  is  not  doubt  itself,  but  the  spirit  of 
doubt ;  is  not  unbelief,  but  the  demand  for  unreasonable 
and  impossible  conditions  of  belief.  We  do  not  tell  you 
that  you  must  stamp  out  every  doubt  and  difficulty  in  your 
soul  before  jrou  can  become  a  Christian.  We  do  not  tell  you 
that  if  you  doubt  on  one  point  of  faith  you  cannot  possibly 
accept  the  rest ;  rather  do  we  tell  you  that  if  you  believe 
but  one  point  of  the  Faith,  and  believe  it  on  the  principle 
of  faith,  you  may  yet  come  to  believe  all  the  rest.  Our 
message  to  you  whose  hearts  are  weary  with  the  labour  of 
doubting  is  the  word  that  Our  Lord  gave  of  old  to  the 

weary  and  heavy  laden,  "  Come  unto  me,  and  ye 

shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls." 

And  now  we  can,  I  think,  place  ourselves  distinctly  at 
the  point  of  collision  between  scepticism  and  Christianity. 
As  we  saw  last  night  that  the  question  between  Christianity 
and  free-thought  is  a  dispute  as  to  the  nature  of  liberty, 
so  we  see  to-night  that  the  question  between  Christianity 
and  scepticism  is  a  dispute  as  to  the  nature  of  certainty. 
Scepticism  demands  certainty.  Christianity  offers  cer- 
tainty, and  gives  it  in  the  end.  But  the  certainty  Chris- 
tianity gives  is  the  certainty  partly  of  reason,  partly  of 
faith,  and  partly  of  experience,  whereas  the  certainty  that 
scepticism  demands  is  the  certainty  of  science  only.  Or 


90 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


we  may  state  it  finally  thus  : — Every  one,  even  the  most 
extreme  of  unbelievers,  will  admit  that  there  is  something 
to  be  said  for  Christianity.  Christianity  is  not  altogether 
unreasonable  and  unworthy  of  a  hearing  as  regards  its 
evidences;  for,  after  all,  the  men  who  have  believed  in 
Christianity  during  the  last  eighteen  hundred  years  have 
not  been  precisely  the  greatest  fools  of  their  age.  Leibnitz, 
and  Butler,  and  Pascal  were  not  exactly  drivellers, — they 
were  men  capable  of  thinking,  of  weighing  an  argument, 
of  understanding  evidences.  And  not  these  only,  but 
hundreds  and  thousands  of  the  most  powerful  and  subtle 
intellects  that  humanity  has  ever  known,  who  in  their  day 
weighed  the  evidences  of  Christianity — ay,  and  weighed 
them  in  spite  of  doubt,  and  fought  their  way  through 
every  one  of  those  doubts  that  are  tangling  round  the  feet 
of  men  now  as  they  come  to  Christ — were  not  such  utter 
fools,  that  any  one  is  entitled  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  to 
dismiss  Christianity  altogether  as  an  absurdity  and  a  folly. 
All  who  are  at  all  reasonable  will  admit  there  is  something 
to  be  said  for  the  evidences  of  Christianity ;  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  every  reasonable  Christian  will  admit  there  is 
something  to  be  listened  to — something  at  least  that 
appears  at  first  sight  reasonable  and  fair — in  some  of  the 
objections  to  Christianity. 

But  the  real  question  is  this :  The  Christian  says  to 
the  sceptic,  "  It  is  unreasonable  of  you  to  ask  that  every 
difficulty  sbould  be  got  rid  of,  and  every  question  an- 
swered, before  you  believe  Christianity."  The  sceptic 
says  to  the  Christian,  "  It  is  unreasonable  of  you  to  ask 
me  to  believe  Christianity  until  you  have  set  at  rest  every 
doubt  and  answered  every  possible  question."  Now,  I 
ask  you  to  consider  which  of  these  is  right,  which  is  the 
reasonable  demand — that  of  the  Christian  for  faith  upon 
sufficient,  probable  evidence;  or  that  of  the  sceptic  for 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


91 


assent  only  upon  scientific  demonstration  ?  This  is  our 
question  to-night. 

In  order  to  argue  this  question  fairly  and  calmly,  with- 
out passion  or  prejudice,  let  us  pass  away  altogether  for 
the  moment  from  the  subject  of  religion  and  religious 
doubt,  and  let  us  consider  the  uses  and  abuses  of  doubt  in 
other  matters  than  religion.  "We  all  know  that  men  do 
doubt  and  have  doubted  about  many  subjects  besides 
religion.  Try,  then,  and  recall  to  your  minds  your  first 
doubt.  It  will  be  long,  very  long,  ago  in  your  life.  Your 
first  doubt  is  only  a  little  later  than  your  first  belief.  The 
first  instinct  of  the  child  is  to  believe  everything — to  be- 
lieve that  everything  he  sees,  everything  he  hears,  is  true. 
All  appearances  for  the  child  are  realities.  The  sun  is  to 
him  a  ball  of  fire  that  climbs  up  the  sky  in  the  morning 
and  sets  in  the  evening.  The  stars  are  little  specks  of 
light  set  in  a  blue  firmament.  The  earth  is  a  flat  space. 
The  words  of  men  are  true  words.  Everything  that 
appears  to  him  at  first  is.  Yery  soon,  however,  the  child 
learns  that  what  appears  is  not  always  what  it  appears, 
learns  to  distrust  appearances,  learns  that  under  the 
appearance  there  is  often  a  different  reality ;  that  is  to 
say,  he  learns  his  first  lesson  of  doubt.  And  very  valuable 
and  important  is  this  first  calling  out  of  the  instinct  of 
doubt,  this  first  awakening  of  the  sceptical  part  of  man — 
of  his  understanding.  For  the  nature  of  the  understand- 
ing is  ever  to  ask  the  question  "  What  ?  "  and  "  Why  ?  " 
— ever  to  seek  under  appearances  for  their  cause  or  for 
their  underlying  reality.  And  so  the  mind  of  man,  the 
sceptical,  inquiring  mind,  is  ever  questioning  of  every 
apparent  fact :  "  Is  this  what  it  seems  ?  "  and  if  it  is, 
"  Why  is  it  so  ?  "  or  if  it  is  not,  "  Why  is  it  not  ?  "  Thus 
doubt,  precious  and  invaluable  doubt,  is  ever  leading  man 
on  from  question  to  question,  and  every  question  that  he 


92 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


asks,  if  he  can  but  gain  from  science  the  true  answer  to 
it,  is  ever  leading  him  a  step  on  in  knowledge.  The  mind 
of  man  is  ever  asking,  and  nature  and  science  are  ever 
furnishing  answers  to  his  questions.  So  man  goes  on  from 
belief  to  doubt,  from  doubt  to  belief,  from  belief  to  greater 
knowledge  ;  and  thus  doubt  is  still  the  cause  of  progress, 
the  implement  of  discovery,  the  spur  to  reformation,  the 
motive  power  that  is  specially  needed  for  the  ever  onward 
march  of  humanity  in  knowledge  and  science.  Doubt ! 
without  this  invaluable  instinct  of  doubt  humanity  would 
be  stagnant :  with  it,  and  by  its  help,  humanity  pro- 
gresses. We  do  not  disparage,  we  highly  value,  the 
uses  of  doubt. 

But,  observe !  this  doubt  is  useful  upon  one  condition 
and  one  only — that  it  starts  from  a  first  belief.  For  what 
is  the  source  of  all  this  doubt  and  this  thirst  after  know- 
ledge ?  It  is  the  supreme,  instinctive  belief  that  beneath 
all  appearances  there  is  a  reality — that  something  under- 
lies and  causes  all  being.  And  it  is  the  search  after  this 
(if  I  may  so  speak  of  it)  Essence  of  Existence — the  search 
of  this  I  AM — that  still  leads  on  the  doubter.  If  he  had 
no  faith  in  some  underlying  reality  beneath  all  these 
phenomena,  these  appearances,  there  would  be  no  pro- 
gress ;  and  so  doubt  is  ever  seeking  for  that  which  is,  ever 
seeking  to  get  below  that  which  appears,  and  yet  never 
reaches  it.  Never  yet  has  scientific  investigation,  whetted 
and  excited  by  sceptical  enquiry,  reached  to  the  great 
reason  of  all  reasons  ;  the  great  cause  of  all  causes  ;  the 
great  fact  that  underlies  all  facts.  And  yet  ever,  as  we 
seek  for  it,  we  are  advancing  in  knowledge.  We  do  not 
reach  it,  but  we  are  ever  reaching  and  passing  on  beyond 
that  which  lies  between  us  and  it.  So  you  see  the 
action  of  doubt  in  the  human  mind  is  just  like  that  of 
the  mainspring  in  a  watch.    The  mainspring  of  a  watch, 


CHEISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


93 


as  you  know,  is  firmly  attached  at  one  end,  and  it  is  ever 
seeking  to  uncoil  itself  but  yet  never  completely  does  so, 
and  the  result  of  this  is  that  the  hands  of  the  watch  move 
uniformly.  If  you  cut  the  attachment  the  hands  will  give 
one  wild  whirl,  and  then  be  still  and  useless.  It  is  just 
the  same  with  faith  and  doubt  in  the  human  mind.  Doubt 
is  attached  to  the  primary  belief  that  there  is  a  cause  for 
all  things,  but  it  is  ever  seeking  to  escape  from  that  belief  ; 
it  is  ever  trying  to  detach  itself,  but  never  succeeding  ; 
and  the  result  is  there  is  a  constant  and  a  measured 
progress  of  the  human  mind. 

But  we  have  next  to  consider  how  much  further  the 
intellect,  which  thus  has  been  ruling  and  testing  our  be- 
liefs, may  go.  So  far  we  have  seen  the  intellect,  the  scepti- 
cal understanding  in  man — that  in  us  which  asks  "Why  ?  " 
and  "  What  ?  " — acting  as  supreme  judge  and  ruler,  and 
all  evidence  as  yet  has  been  submitted  to  it  alone.  Now, 
the  real  question  is  this  :  Must  it  indeed  be  the  sole  rule 
and  judge  of  all  beliefs  ?  Are  there  any  beliefs  that  can- 
not be  submitted  to  it  alone  ?  Are  there  any  domains  of 
knowledge  and  of  certainty  which  cannot  be  reached  by 
the  sceptical  intellect,  and  into  which  some  other  part  of 
man's  nature  must  enter,  to  decide  as  to  his  belief?  Let  us 
go  back  to  that  early  childhood  of  which  I  have  been  speak- 
ing, in  which  the  child,  who  at  first  believes  everything, 
learns  his  first  lesson  of  doubt.  A  child,  as  I  have  said, 
not  only  believes  in  appearances,  but  he  believes  in  testi- 
mony. He  believes  in  human  nature.  His  intuitive  belief 
is  in  the  truthfulness  of  humanity.  Every  word  that  is 
said  to  a  child  at  first  he  believes  ;  but  he  very  soon  learns 
his  second  great  lesson  of  doubt  and  distrust ;  learns  that 
everyone  who  speaks  to  him  is  not  true  ;  learns  that  it  is 
not  wise  for  him  to  believe  everything  that  is  said  to  him. 
Is  that  as  happy  a  discovery  as  that  other  discovery  of 


94 


CHEISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


which,  we  spoke  ?  Does  it  lead  to  like  happy  results  ? 
Does  it  make  the  discoverer  feel  better,  wiser,  happier  ? 
Would  you  say  to  the  child,  "  Go  on,  my  child,  in  this 
progress  of  doubt  and  distrust ;  believe  no  one  until  he 
has  proved  to  you  that  you  must  believe  him.  Doubt 
everyone,  distrust  everyone,  refuse  to  accept  any  word  of 
any  human  being  until  you  have  demonstration  for  it  "  ? 
"Would  the  man  who  grew  up  in  that  distrustful  spirit  be 
a  happy  man  ?  Would  he  be  a  wise  man  ?  Is  it  wisdom 
always  to  distrust  human  nature  ?  And  yet,  if  it  is  not,  I 
ask  you  what  demonstration  you  can  have  of  the  truthful- 
ness of  every  person  whom  you  trust  ?  You  are  always 
trusting.  Can  you  prove  logically  that  you  are  right  in 
any  of  those  trusts  ?  The  wife  of  your  bosom  may  be  false 
to  you  for  all  you  can  tell.  The  little  children  whose  eyes 
look  up  to  yours  with  such  loving  trust  and  whose  laughter 
sounds  in  your  ears  like  the  music  of  summer  brooks,  you 
cannot  prove  that  they  are  not  hating  you  in  their  hearts. 
The  friend  whom  you  trust  in  business,  you  cannot  prove 
logically  that  he  is  not  a  traitor  and  a  rogue.  Such  things 
have  been ;  we  know  they  have.  Men  have  been  deceived 
by  their  wives,  hated  by  their  children,  betrayed  by  their 
friends,  and  robbed  by  their  men  of  business.  It  is  quite 
possible  that  this  may  be  so  in  your  case.  Are  you  there- 
fore to  distrust  everyone  ?  Would  it  be  wise  of  you  to 
do  so  ?  Why  !  you  know  that  if  a  man  were  to  act  upon 
this  principle  and  were  to  say,  "  I  do  not  trust  my  wife, 
my  children,  my  friends  ;  I  do  not  trust  anyone  until  they 
prove  to  me,  demonstrate  to  me,  leave  me  in  no  doubt  of 
their  honesty,  their  love,  or  their  truthfulness,"  you  would 
not  call  him  a  wise  man,  you  would  call  him  a  madman. 
You  would  put  that  man  in  a  lunatic  asylum.  And  why  ? 
Because,  you  would  say,  that  he  gave  the  surest  evidence 
of  madness  ;  that  one  part  of  his  nature  had  acquired  a 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


95 


diseased  intensity,  which,  had  mastered  all  the  rest.  You 
would  say  that  that  man  had  gono  mad  with  distrust  and 
suspicion — had  gone  sceptically  mad — and  you  would 
treat  him  accordingly.  And  yet  I  defy  any  one  here  to 
show  logically  that  the  man  might  not  be  right.  I  defy 
any  one  to  give  that  man  such  a  logical  and  scientific 
demonstration  as  would  prove  to  him  beyond  all  possibility 
of  doubt  that  his  friends,  or  his  wife,  or  his  children,  were 
not  in  a  conspiracy  to  deceive  and  to  wrong  him.  You  see, 
then,  that  there  is  an  absolute  necessity  for  trust  in  the 
ordinary  affairs  of  common  life. 

But  I  pass  on  to  another  and  still  more  important  point. 
I  have  said,  and  I  hope  you  see,  that  life  must  be  con- 
ducted upon  the  principle  of  faith  or  trust  ;  but  let  us  ask 
now,  whether  the  rule  of  life,  morality,  can  exist  without 
faith — whether  we  can  get  a  demonstrative  or  scientific 
basis  for  morality  itself.  I  ask  this  question  because  those 
who  are  loudest  in  their  prophecies  of  the  destruction  of 
religion  are  always  loudest  in  their  boasts  of  the  gain  to 
morality  that  would  follow.  They  tell  you,  "  When  we 
have  swept  away  every  vestige  of  religion,  then,  and  then 
only,  will  morality  be  really  strong,  free  from  the  corrupt- 
ing influence  of  religious  superstition."  Let  us  consider 
this.  Let  us  ask,  How  will  morality  bear  the  assaults  of 
scepticism  ?  What  is  morality  ?  Morality  is  that  code 
or  rule  of  action  which  you  follow  in  questions  of  right  or 
wrong.  It  is  something  different  from  the  moral  sense  or 
the  power  of  feeling  right  or  wrong  :  it  is  the  power  of 
knowing  what  is  right  or  wrong.  Practically  it  is  the 
established  code  or  rule  of  right  and  wrong  in  the  society 
in  which  you  happen  to  be  living.  This  is  morality  for 
most  men.  Or  if  not  this,  it  is  the  code  (or  rule)  of  right 
and  wrong  which  each  man  forms  or  adopts  for  himself. 
Let  us  try  how  this  code  will  resist  the  action  of  the  sceptical 


96 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


principle  which,  you  remember,  demands  demonstration 
for  everything  before  it  believes — asks  to  see  before  it 
assents.  I  ask  the  man  who  says  he  has  a  system  of 
morality,  "  "What  is  it?  Is  it  your  own  code,  or  is  it  the 
code  of  what  you  call  the  common  sense  or  common 
morality  of  mankind  ?  "  I  will  take  the  last  first,  for  that 
is  what  most  people  do  say.  Very  few  persons  are  bold 
enough  to  say,  "  Everything  that  I  think  about  morals 
must  necessarily  be  right."  On  the  whole,  morality 
means  what  mankind  generally  think  is  moral.  But  I  ask 
you  first:  ''Have  you  ever  got  the  universal  sense  of 
humanity  upon  any  one  question  of  right  or  wrong  ?  Do 
you  know  that  all  mankind  agree  with  you  ?  Do  you  know 
that  even  the  greater  part  of  mankind  agree  with  vou  ? 
Have  you  ever  submitted  this  particular  question  to  the 
great  majority  of  mankind  ?  Have  you  got  their  answer  ? 
If  you  have,  can  you  prove  to  me  logically  that  the  major- 
ity on  any  question  of  morals  must  always  be  right,  and 
the  minority  always  wrong  ?  If  men  differ,  and  they  do 
differ,  on  a  great  many  moral  questions,  which  is  right 
— the  majority  or  the  minority  ?  Or,  again,  wbose  morality 
is  it  that  you  will  have  ?  That  of  your  own  day  or  that  of 
the  past  generation  ?  These  differ  very  much  on  many 
points.  As  you  know,  our  ancestors  approved  of  duelling 
and  the  slave  trade.  "We  disapprove  of  both.  Which  are 
in  the  right  ?  I  am  not  asking  you  which  you  feel  to  be 
right  ;  but  I  am  asking  you  which  you  can  prove  logically 
or  to  demonstration  to  be  right.  Or  if  you  cannot  decide 
the  question  bv  majority  or  minority — and  I  suppose  very 
few  persons  would  think  of  deciding  a  question  of  morality 
as  they  would  settle  the  election  of  a  member  of  Parlia- 
ment, by  majority  or  minority — how  are  you  to  decide 
it  ?  "By  asking  what  the  opinion  of  the  wise  and  good 
in  all  ages  has  been."    How  are  you  to  know  the  wise 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM.  97 

and  good  ?  Before  you  can  know  the  wise  and  good,  you 
must  know  what  wisdom  and  goodness  are,  and  if  you 
know  what  wisdom  and  goodness  are,  what  need  have  you 
to  look  to  the  wise  and  good  to  tell  you  ?  "I  question 
the  wise  and  good,  because  I  want  wise  and  good 
opinions."  But  who  are  the  wise  and  good?  "Why, 
the  men  who  give  me  wise  and  good  opinions."  Is 
that  logical  ?  "Will  that  stand  the  test  of  sceptical 
enquiry  ?  Is  that  what  men  call  demonstration  about 
morals  ?  This  appeal  to  the  universal  verdict  of 
humanity  is  simply  illogical  and  preposterous,  for  the 
reason  that  you  yourself  are  a  part  of  that  universal 
humanity,  and  that,  if  you  differ  from  its  verdict,  it  is  not 
the  verdict  of  universal  humanity,  and  if  you  agree  with 
it,  and  take  it  because  it  agrees  with  your  own,  you  might 
as  well  have  taken  your  own  in  the  first  instance.  As  you 
cannot  get  out  of  this  logical  difficulty,  then  it  comes  to 
this — that  each  man  is  to  decide  entirely  for  himself  and 
apart  from  all  others  what  is  right  or  wrong.  Is  it  so  ? 
"What  is  it  then  in  us  which  decides  what  is  right  and 
wrong  ?  Our  conscience.  It  is  an  authority,  then  !  And 
what  about  free-thought  and  authority  ?  "Why  should 
man's  free- thought,  his  sceptical  intellect,  submit  itself  to 
the  decision  of  that  in  him  which  we  call  the  conscience  ? 
Why,  he  knows  that  his  conscience  has  been  mistaken 
more  than  once — that  at  one  time  he  thought  that  right 
which  he  now  thinks  wrong.  Why  must  he  submit  him- 
self, then,  to  these  contradictory  decisions  of  his  con- 
science ?  Because  we  are  told  it  is  a  part  of  his  nature. 
But  it  is  also  a  part  of  his  nature  to  have  passion  and 
appetite.  Give  me  a  logical  proof,  a  demonstration  that 
will  hold  water,  something  I  can  see  as  clearly  as  that  two 
and  two  make  four — that  one  part  of  my  nature  is  to  yield 
to  another  part.    Why  am  I  to  mutilate  one  part  of  my 

H 


98 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


nature  at  the  bidding  of  another  ?  And  who  and  what 
am  I  ?  Have  I  any  logical  demonstration  as  to  what  I 
am  ?  I  have  a  scientific  demonstration,  if  you  like,  and 
what  is  that  ?  Why,  that  I  am  carbon,  and  lime,  and 
phosphorus,  and  certain  other  chemicals  put  together,  after 
a  particular  fashion.  No  dissector  has  ever  dissected  out 
a  soul — no  man  of  science  has  ever  demonstrated  a  spirit 
or  a  conscience.  Then,  I  ask,  why  am  I  to  obey  the 
bidding  of  one  convolution  of  my  brain  more  than  that  of 
another  ?  Or  if  my  interests  come  into  collision  with  the 
interests  of  another  man — that  is  to  say,  another  mass  of 
carbon,  lime,  and  phosphorus — what  is  there  in  the  exist- 
ence of  that  collection  of  chemicals  (and,  mind  you,  science 
tells  you  no  more  than  that)  which  gives  it  the  right  to 
give  a  law  to  that  other  collection  of  chemicals  which  I 
call  myself  ?  "What  is  the  duty  that  I  owe  to  that  mass 
of  chemicals  ?  I  owe  nothing  to  it.  You  cannot  demon- 
strate it — you  cannot  make  it  as  clear  as  that  two  and  two 
make  four — that  I  am  to  do  to  another  man  what  I  would 
he  should  do  unto  me.  "  Duty  ! "  "  Right ! "  These  are 
words  of  the  spirit,  of  the  soul.  Science  never  yet  revealed 
the  soul,  and  therefore  the  man  who  will  believe  nothing 
but  what  he  sees  and  what  can  be  demonstrated  to  him 
will  deny  at  last  the  existence  of  duty,  in  obedience  to  his 
sceptical  intellect,  just  as  he  begins  by  denying  the  exist- 
ence of  God  for  the  same  reason. 

Now,  I  ask  you,  how  do  you  get  out  of  this  difficulty  ? 
I  know  that  many  do,  and  I  thank  God  for  it.  I  am  very 
far  indeed  from  saying  that  every  man  who  denies  Chris- 
tianity must  necessarily  be  an  immoral  man.  We  thank- 
fully acknowledge  that,  as  men  may  be  worse  than  their 
principles,  so  thev  may  be  far  better  than  their  principles ; 
and  we  do  most  firmly  believe  and  thankfully  acknow- 
ledge that  men  who  are  not  Christians  extricate  themselves 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


99 


from  this  logical  difficulty.  But  how  do  they  do  it  ? 
They  do  it  just  in  the  same  way  in  which  men  extricate 
themselves  from  difficulty  and  doubt  and  scepticism  in  the 
affairs  of  life.  They  extricate  themselves  by  calling  up 
another  instinct  of  their  nature  to  fight  the  instinct  of 
doubt :  they  call  up  the  instinct  of  faith.  How  does  a  man 
in  practical  life  fight  the  sceptical  instinct  which  bids  him 
doubt  his  fellows  ?  He  appeals  to  the  instinct  of  faith. 
He  says — "  I  will  believe, — I  will  silence  this  busy  devil 
in  my  heart  that  is  ever  bidding  me  doubt  of  what  is 
holiest  and  best ;  I  will  to  believe  in  human  nature ;  I 
will  to  silence  these  sceptical  questions  of  the  mere  under- 
standing ;  I  will  to  believe  in  a  higher  and  nobler 
humanity." 

And  so  it  is  in  the  matter  of  morality.  How  is  it  that 
any  one  can  extricate  himself  from  the  logical  and  scientific 
difficulties  that  I  have  been  speaking  of  ?  He  does  so  in 
one  way  and  one  only.  He  does  it  by  an  act  of  faith.  He 
rises  up  to  a  belief  in  a  nature  and  a  person — in  his  own 
personality  and  in  his  own  higher  and  better  nature.  He  • 
wills  to  believe  that  he  is  something  more  than  a  compound 
of  material  elements.  He  wills  and  chooses  to  believe  that 
conscience  in  him  is  something  supreme  and  divine.  He 
wills  and  chooses  to  believe  that  the  man  in  him  is  some- 
thing above  the  animal.  And  by  an  exercise  of  faith, — 
of  faith  in  himself,  of  faith  in  his  own  higher  and  better 
self — and  by  this  alone,  he  silences  the  eternal  "  Why  ?  " 
of  the  sceptical  intellect — the  serpent  in  him  "  more  subtle 
than  any  beast  of  the  field,"  which,  if  it  had  its  way, 
would  make  of  every  man  nothing  but  a  beast ;  the 
sceptical  understanding,  which,  taking  its  retaining  fee 
from  the  passions  and  the  appetites,  ever  seeks  to  reason 
away  the  supremacy  of  the  conscience — to  justify  the 
revolt  of  man's  appetites  against  his  own  higher  and 


100 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


spiritual  nature.  This  is  the  only  way  of  escape  from  the 
difficulties  which  the  sceptical  intellect  raises  against 
morals,  against  society,  against  law,  against  all  that 
makes  life  endurable  or  lovable,  quite  as  much  as  it  does 
against  religion  itself. 

And  now  I  have  one  and  only  one  more  question  to  ask. 
Having  shown  you,  I  hope  clearly  shown  you,  that  there 
are  subjects  in  which  the  sceptical  intellect  is  not  the  only 
judge, — that  there  are  domains  of  human  knowledge  and 
human  life  into  which,  if  doubt  comes  at  all,  it  must  come 
as  a  servant  and  not  as  a  master — having  shown  you  that 
scepticism  is  really  nothing  else  than  the  intrusion  of  the 
merely  sceptical  understanding  into  the  province  of  the 
soul, — it  remains  only  to  ask  this  question  :  Is  religion, 
is  Christianity  one  of  those  subjects  in  which  the  under- 
standing is  not  to  be  the  only  judge,  but  in  which  the 
soul  and  the  heart  of  man  are  to  have  something  to  say 
about  his  belief  ?  Surely  you  see  at  once  that  if  Chris- 
tianity be  what  it  professes  to  be — a  life, — it  is  quite  clear 
that,  like  all  human  life,  it  must  be  conducted  upon  a 
principle  of  trust ;  that  if  we  cannot  live  our  ordinary 
human  life  without  trusting  where  we  cannot  demon- 
strate, neither  can  we  live  the  spiritual  life  without  like 
trust.  Observe  !  I  am  not  saying  that  because  you  must, 
in  Christianity,  trust  where  you  cannot  demonstrate,  that 
therefore  you  are  to  take  everything  upon  trust  and  to  ask 
for  no  proof,  any  more  than  I  say  you  are  to  do  the  same 
thing  in  natural  life.  There  may  be  circumstances  and 
facts  in  natural  life  that  may  make  the  most  unsuspicious 
and  trustful  man  lawfully  suspicious ;  and  it  is  conceivable 
that  there  may  be  circumstances  or  facts  in  Christianity 
that  should  make  even  Christians  suspicious  and  distrust- 
ful. We  do  not  think  there  are,  but  I  am  not  now  saying 
that  there  are  not ;  I  am  only  insisting  that  we  should  not 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


101 


in  the  Christian  life  believe  only  on  demonstration,  unless 
we  are  equally  prepared  to  say  that  we  should  believe  only 
on  demonstration  in  the  natural  life. 

If  Christianity  be,  as  it  professes  to  be,  a  spiritual 
life,  if  that  life  be  a  union,  the  deepest  and  most  inti- 
mate of  unions,  between  the  finite  spirit  of  man  and  the 
infinite  spirit  of  his  Heavenly  Father,  the  Almighty  God, 
then  must  that  life  be  full  of  mystery,  full  of  insoluble 
questions.  Have  you  ever  solved  the  mysteries  of  your 
own  life  ?  Have  you  ever  fathomed  the  depths  of  your 
own  spirit  ?  And  if  you  think  of  that  mysterious  life 
of  yours  being  brought  into  close  relationship  with  the 
divine,  eternal,  and  infinite  life,  can  it  possibly  be  other 
than  that  out  of  the  meeting  place  of  those  two  mysteries 
there  should  grow  mystery  and  difficulty  ?  Why,  the  very 
fact  that  Christianity  is  a  revelation — professes  at  least  to 
be  a  revelation — of  fresh  truths  concerning  man  and  God 
suggests  the  expectation  that  it  will  bring  forward  fresh 
difficulties,  fresh  mysteries.  The  telescope  of  the  astro- 
nomer, you  know,  resolves  this  or  that  nebula,  this  01 
that  cloudy  mystery  in  the  heavens,  and  what  seems  but  a 
cloud  resolves  itself  into  worlds.  But,  then,  as  the  teles- 
cope brings  nearer  to  you  and  so  resolves  this  nebula,  in 
that  very  act  it  brings  into  the  field  of  view  some  other  far 
off,  dim,  nebulous  mystery  of  the  heavens,  which  it  does 
but  bring  to  view  and  has  not  the  power  to  resolve  into 
its  constituent  elements.  So  is  it  with  Christianity.  The 
eye  of  faith,  aided  by  the  power  of  revelation,  resolves,  it 
may  be,  this  or  that  mystery  of  our  being,  but  it  does  so 
by  bringing  into  the  field  of  view  the  remoter  and  dimmer 
mysteries  of  the  heaven  of  our  belief.  Yes,  Christianity 
is  a  life — a  spiritual  life, — and,  therefore,  it  must  be 
fraught  with  its  own  difficulties  and  its  own  mysteries. 
Christianity  must  have  that  in  it  which  shall  provoke  the 


102 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM. 


sceptical  intellect.  All  we  ask  for  it  is,  not  that  men 
should  ask  no  proof,  not  that  they  should  not  ask  reason- 
ahle  proof,  nay,  a  very  large  amount  of  reasonable  proof, 
but  that  they  should  not  deal  with  Christianity  in  a 
different  way  from  that  in  which  they  deal  with  other  and 
kindred  subjects, — with  human  life,  with  human  morality, 
— that  they  should  not  have  faith  for  these  and  scepticism 
only  for  that.  We  say,  "  Be  consistent  in  your  scepticism." 
If  you  will  doubt  religion  for  purely  sceptical  reasons — 
doubt  for  sceptical  reasons  all  other  things  about  which 
doubt  is  possible  ;  but  if  you  tell  us  that  you  can  exercise 
faith  in  those  other  things,  then  do  not  tell  us  beforehand 
— before  you  bear  a  word  of  evidence — that  it  is  impos- 
sible for  you  to  exercise  faith  in  religion. 

If  you  will  say  to  us  of  religion,  "  I  must  see  every- 
thing before  I  believe  anything,"  then  carry  that  prin- 
ciple out  in  morality  and  life,  and  see  what  comes  of  it. 
But  if  in  morality  and  in  life  you  can  say,  "  I  will  not 
insist  on  seeing  all  before  I  believe  ;  nay,  my  deepest  wis- 
dom is  often  to  believe  in  order  that  I  may  see,"  then 
adopt  the  same  principle  in  common  fairness  as  regards 
religion.  TVe  do  not  ask  you  to  believe  without  evi- 
dence,— we  do  not  ask  you  to  believe  without  a  large 
amount  of  evidence,  but  we  do  ask  you  to  do  in  religion 
with  your  sceptical  intellect  what  you  do  in  morality,  and 
what  you  do  in  the  ordinary  affairs  of  life.  Suffer  it,  if 
you  will,  to  accompany  you  up  to  a  certain  point,  but  at 
that  point  you  must  say  to  it,  "  Here  we  part."  If  we 
must  say  in  morality,  if  we  must  say  in  life,  "  There  is 
that  which  I  believe  though  I  cannot  see,"  have  we  the 
right  to  say  with  respect  to  religion,  a  kindred  subject, 
an  essentially  analogous  subject :  "  I  shall  only  believe 
what  L  see  "  ? 

And  yet  remember  this — that  when  we  ask  you  to 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  SCEPTICISM.  103 

« 

believe  before  you  see  all,  it  is  tbat  you  may  at  last  see 
and  experience  all.  Christianity  has  a  demonstration, 
but  it  is  one  that  comes  not  before,  but  after,  belief. 
Christianity  has  a  certainty,  but  it  is  one  which  comes  not 
as  the  condition  but  as  the  reward  of  faith.  There  is  a 
"demonstration  of  the  Spirit" — there  is  an  evidence  of 
the  divine  life  in  the  soul  of  the  believing  Christian  which 
he  cannot  demonstrate  to  others,  because  it  is  invisible  as 
his  own  soul  and  spirit,  and  yet  which  he  feels  to  be  the 
very  core  and  life  of  his  inner  being :  it  is  the  "  strength- 
ening of  his  inner  man  "  by  the  Spirit  of  Christ.  Chris- 
tianity is  a  great  experiment,  a  probable,  a  reasonable 
experiment,  but  still  an  experiment.  Christianity  is  a 
great  remedy,  a  probable,  a  reasonable  remedy,  but  still  a 
remedy  to  be  tested  in  the  taking  of  it.  Try  the  experi- 
ment. Try  it  with  the  conditions  under  which  alone  it 
can  be  successful.  Try  it  with  the  purity  which  He  blessed 
who  said  :  "  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart  for  they  shall 
see  God."  Try  it  with  a  simple  and  earnest  desire  to 
ascertain  its  truth.  Try  it,  casting  aside  for  the  moment 
the  terrible  interest  that  the  merely  sensual  and  profligate 
man  has  in  the  untruthfulness  of  the  revelation  that 
restrains  his  lawlessness.  Try  it,  as  He  bids  you  try  it 
who  bids  you  come  to  Him,  even  as  a  little  child.  Try 
it  thus,  and  see  if  there  does  not  come  into  your  soul  that 
deep  conviction,  not  created  by  science,  not  begotten  of 
the  logical  understanding,  but  welling  up  from  the  inner- 
most depths  of  your  being,  that  shall  be  to  you  "  a  well  of 
water  springing  up  to  everlasting  life."  Try  it.  See  if 
what  He  promises  be  not  true ;  that,  though  there  is  no 
rest  for  the  sole  of  your  foot  either  in  morality,  in  life,  or  in 
religion,  if  you  will  insist  on  seeing  before  you  believe  ;  yet 
that,  as  in  life,  as  in  morality,  so  also  in  religion,  "  Blessed 
are  they  who  have  not  seen  and  yet  have  believed." 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


Preached  m  Norwich  Cathedral,  March  30th,  1871. 

"Blessed  are  they  that  have  not  seen,  and  yet  have  believed." — 
St.  John  xx.  29. 

LAST  night  1  endeavoured  to  show  you  what  scepticism 
is,  and  what  it  leads  to.  We  saw  that  scepticism  is 
not  simply  doubt,  but  that  it  is  doubt  of  a  particular  kind. 
It  is  that  state  of  doubt  which  arises  from  insisting  upon 
referring  every  question  for  solution  to  one  part  and  one 
only  of  our  nature — to  the  sceptical  understanding.  It 
is  that  state  of  doubt  which  arises  from  refusing  to  believe 
until  it  has  been  made  impossible  to  doubt.  And  we  saw 
what  this  leads  to.  We  saw  that  it  necessarily  leads  to 
the  destruction  of  all  belief  properly  so  called — to  the 
destruction  of  every  kind  of  assent  except  assent  to  scien- 
tifically demonstrated  fact  ;  that  it  is  fatal  to  all  beHef 
that  rests  upon  moral  as  distinguished  from  scientific  cer- 
tainty, and  that  appeals  to  any  part  of  our  nature  except 
the  understanding — all  belief  with  which  the  heart  and 
the  spirit  of  man  have  anything  whatever  to  do ;  and 
therefore  fatal  to  all  that  higher  and  nobler  life  which 
arises  out  of  such  beliefs.  We  saw  that  scepticism,  for 
instance,  is  essentially  fatal  to  morality  ;  because  there  is 
no  absolute  demonstration  of  morality,  and  that  in  order 
to  be  moral  it  is  necessary  to  exercise  an  act  of  faith. 
And  we  saw,  further,  that  inasmuch  as  religion,  like 


108 


CHRISIIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


morality,  is  incapable  of  scientific  demonstration ;  as  it 
does  appeal  to  something  else  in  man  than  the  logical 
faculty  ;  as  it  docs,  like  morality,  appeal  to  man's  heart 
and  spirit  and  conscience  ;  it,  too,  cannot  justify  itself 
absolutely  to  the  sceptical  intellect ;  so  that  scepticism  is 
necessarily  as  fatal  to  religion  as  it  is  to  morality.  And, 
therefore,  I  hope  you  now  see  clearly  what  a  mere  waste 
of  time  it  is  for  the  Christian  to  endeavour  to  satisfy  the 
consistent  sceptic.  They  have  absolutely  nothing  in 
common.  It  is  quite  impossible  that  religion  can  satisfy 
scepticism  unless  it  cease  to  be  religion  and  become  a 
science  ;  and  it  is  just  as  absurd  to  object  to  religion  that 
it  is  not  science,  as  it  is  to  object  to  science  that  it  is  not 
religion.  The  wisest  course,  therefore,  that  we  can  take, 
in  dealing  with  those  who  call  themselves  sceptical,  is  to 
begin,  and  for  the  most  part  to  end,  the  discussion  by 
asking  this  plain  question,  "You  tell  us  that  you  are 
sceptical,  and  you  demand  that  all  your  doubts  shall  be 
satisfied  before  you  believe.  "We  ask  you,  Do  you 
yourself  believe  in  anything  ;  and,  if  so,  why  do  you 
believe  in  it  ?  Do  you  believe  at  all  in  the  proper  sense 
of  the  word  ?  Do  you  assent  to  anything  upon  trust  ? 
Is  there  anything  whatever  that  you  believe,  although 
you  cannot  demonstrate  it  ?  If  so,  then  you  have  no  right 
to  say  to  us,  '  "We  will  believe  nothing  of  your  religion 
until  you  can  demonstrate  it.'  But  if  you  say  to  us,  1  We 
believe  in  nothing  that  cannot  be  demonstrated,'  then  all 
we  have  to  say  to  you  is,  1  "We  will  really  have  nothing  to 
answer  ;  we  must  leave  you  to  be  refuted  by  the  common 
sense  of  mankind,  and  by  almost  every  act  of  your  daily 
life,  which  is  based  upon  trust  of  some  kind  or  other.' " 
It  would  save  a  vast  deal  of  time  if  we  were  to  take  this 
course.  Let  me  earnestly  advise  all  Christians  who  may 
be  listening  to  me,  before  they  allow  a  sceptical  opponent 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


109 


to  put  them  upon  the  proof  of  their  faith,  to  ask  him  first 
of  all  for  his  faith.  Say,  "  What  is  it  that  you  believe  ? 
And  remember,  we  will  not  allow  you  to  bring  against 
our  faith  any  objection  that  applies  equally  against  yours. 
We  cannot  allow  that  you  should  have  faith  for  all  the 
difficulties  attending  your  belief,  and  ask  demonstration 
for  all  the  difficulties  attending  ours.  Faith  for  both  or 
faith  for  neither  :  but  not  faith  for  one,  and  demonstration 
for  the  other." 

And  the  reason  why  I  press  this  upon  you  is,  not  that 
you  may  gain  a  logical  victory  over  your  opponents — 
that  is  the  very  poorest  of  all  ambitions, — but  in  the  first 
place  that  you  may  see  how  the  very  same  objections  that 
are  brought  against  your  belief  lie,  many  of  them, 
against  any  and  all  belief,  and  so  be  strengthened  in  your 
own  faith  :  for,  after  all,  the  most  part  of  men  do  believe 
— ay,  and  must  believe  something.  There  is  a  necessity 
of  belief  in  the  soul  of  man,  which  it  is  very  hard  to 
stamp  out  by  any  arguments.  In  the  next  place,  we  urge 
it  upon  you  for  the  sake  of  your  opponents — for  the  sake 
of  those  whom  you  would  win,  and  not  merely  silence.  It 
may  do  them  good  if  you  throw  them  back  upon  con- 
sidering what  is  the  basis  of  their  own  belief ;  showing 
them  if  you  can — and  be  very  thankful  if  you  can  show 
them — that,  unconsciously  to  themselves,  while  they 
call  themselves  sceptics,  they  really  are,  in  some  degree, 
believers. 

Having  endeavoured  clearly  to  show  you  that  religion, 
like  morality,  has  no  answer,  properly  speaking,  to  scep- 
ticism, because,  like  morality,  it  rests  upon  an  act  of 
faith,  let  us  return  to  that  point  at  which  we  left  off  last 
night — the  point  where  we  saw  that,  in  order  to  be  moral, 
in  order  to  believe  in  morality,  we  must  exercise  faith. 
As  I  showed  you,  wo  must,  by  an  act  of  faith  in  ourselves, 


110 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


in  our  own  higher  and  better  nature,  an  act  which  never 
can  justify  itself  to  the  understanding — we  must  submit 
the  understanding  to  the  soul ;  must  elevate  the  con- 
science above  the  merely  logical  and  questioning  faculty  ; 
must  say,  by  the  help  of  that  instinct  of  faith  which  is 
given  us  for  the  very  purpose  of  rising  above  the  instinct 
of  doubt — "  In  spite  of  all  that  can  be  pleaded  to  the 
contrary,  I  feci,  I  know,  that  this  is  right  and  this  is 
true." 

Now,  as  I  have  said,  there  is  in  the  heart  of  every 
human  being  an  eternal  opposition  between  the  merely 
sceptical  understanding  and  the  spiritual  faculty,  between 
that  which  demonstrates  and  that  which  believes,  between 
the  mind  which  we  share  with  the  animal  and  the  spirit 
which  we  believe  we  specially  derive  from  God.  These 
two  are  opposed  one  to  the  other.  And  that  in  us  which 
says,  "  This  must  be  so,  this  shall  be  so !  "  is  a  higher 
faculty  than  that  which  says,  "  How  is  this  so  ?  Why  is 
this  so  ?  "  and  the  act  of  faith  on  which  our  morality,  our 
religion,  our  higher  forms  of  being  and  living  rest,  is 
that  by  which  we  assert  the  supremacy  of  the  one  of  these 
above  the  other.  It  is  true,  we  are  not  always  conscious, 
perhaps  we  are  not  often  conscious,  of  this  contradiction 
in  our  innermost  being,  of  this  opposition  between  the 
spiritual  part  of  our  nature  and  the  merely  fleshly  mind  ; 
but  there  are  times  when  we  become  conscious  of  it. 
There  are  times  when  there  comes  to  each  one  of  us  some 
dire  and  deadly  temptation,  when  we  find  ourselves  in 
the  presence  of  some  object  of  desire  that  hangs  before 
us  like  the  tempting  fruit  in  that  story  which  unbelievers 
regard  as  the  vainest  of  all  fables,  but  which  we  believe 
to  be  the  deepest  of  all  truths,  when  the  animal  in  us 
craves  its  gratification,  and  the  spirit  in  us  trembles  at 
the  thought  that  the  thing  desired  is  unlawful ;  and  when 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


Ill 


beside  that  forbidden  fruit  we  find  tbat  serpent  intellect 
of  which  I  spoke  last  night,  with  its  ingenious  sophistries, 
its  subtle  pleadings  that  after  all  the  thing  is  desirable, 
that  there  may  be  no  law  against  it,  that  there  ought  to 
be  no  law  against  it,  that  there  shall  be  no  law  against  it. 
There  is  not  a  man  in  this  church  to-night  who  has  not 
felt  at  such  a  moment  the  opposition  between  the  spirit  and 
the  flesh  in  him  ;  has  not  felt  that  bis  deliverance  from 
temptation,  his  mastery  over  the  evil  power  that  is  win- 
ning him  to  evil,  lies  not  in  logic,  not  in  demonstration, 
but  in  the  submission  of  the  logical  faculty  to  the  spiritual, 
in  the  resolve  to  say  to  the  subtle  pleading  intellect,  "  Be 
silent !  submit !  I  will  be  righteous !  I  trill  not  sin."  I 
say  it  is  in  such  a  moment  that  we  become  conscious  of 
the  opposition  which  really  exists  between  the  merely 
intellectual  and  the  spiritual  part  of  our  nature.  It  is  as 
the  great  tides  in  our  souls  are  ebbing  and  flowing  in  the 
agony  of  our  temptations  that  they  leave  bare  the  very 
foundations  of  our  being,  and  we  see  the  yawning  chasms 
in  our  nature  that  are  hidden  at  other  times  in  its  undis- 
turbed depths.  It  is  in  such  moments,  in  the  utterance 
of  that  word  "  I  will,"  which  is  indeed  a  word  of  faith, 
that  the  first  ripple  of  the  returning  tide  of  virtue  flows 
back,  to  rise  and  swell  to  its  fullest  height — the  upswell- 
ing  tide  of  love  and  grace  and  truth.  "We  are,  however, 
for  the  most  part  unconscious  of  this  schism  in  our  nature. 
It  is  with  us  in  this  matter  as  it  is  in  what  oculists  tell 
us  of  the  nature  of  our  eyesight.  They  tell  us  that  the 
image  upon  the  retina  of  the  eye  is  drawn  inverted,  and 
that  it  is  only  by  a  frequent  and  unconscious  habit  of 
correction  that  we  see  things  in  their  true  position.  And 
so  there  is  a  natural  inversion  in  the  moral  nature  of  man. 
The  animal  naturally  gets  the  upper  hand  of  the  man ;  and 
it  is  only  by  the  training — by  the  habitual  and  uncon- 


112 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


scious  training — of  man  in  a  Christian  society,  that  the 
habit  of  the  supremacy  of  the  moral  part  of  our  nature  is 
in  most  of  us  so  strongly  established  that  we  are  scarcely 
conscious  of  the  act  of  faith  we  are  habitually  performing ; 
yet  this  faith  underlies  all  morality.  There  is  no  righteous 
deed  that  any  one  of  you  ever  did  that  you  did  not  do, 
consciously  or  unconsciously,  by  virtue  of  an  act  of  faith. 
It  is  just  as  true  in  morality  as  it  is  in  Christianity,  that 
"  the  just  shall  live  by  faith." 

And  now  let  us  pass  on  to  another  question.  If  it  be 
a  fact  that  our  whole  moral  and  religious  life  is  based 
upon  faith,  there  doubtless  must  be  some  good  reason  for 
this  :  at  least  we  Christians  believe  that,  if  our  Heavenly 
Father  has  made  us  so,  He  has  made  us  so  with  a  reason. 
Can  we  see  any  reason,  then,  why  we  should  be  thus 
called  upon  to  live  all  our  moral  life  by  faith  ?  Con- 
sider what  faith  is.  Faith,  as  I  have  said,  is  not  assent 
to  propositions.  It  is  trust  in  a  person — in  a  nature. 
Its  first  act  is  a  belief  that  we  are  better  and  nobler  than 
our  understanding  would  persuade  us  that  we  are.  Now, 
every  time  that  this  opposition  that  I  have  been  describ- 
ing arises  within  a  man,  a  choice  is  given  him,  he  passes 
through  a  probation  as  to  whether  he  will  or  will  not 
believe  in  his  better  self — as  to  whether  he  will  rise  up 
to  the  height  of  his  spiritual  nature,  or  sink  down  to  the 
depths  of  his  animal  nature.  There  is  a  trial,  and  a 
discipline  in  the  trial ;  there  is  a  culture  and  a  growth  of 
his  moral  nature  if  it  stand  the  trial.  We  cannot  believe 
in  our  nobler  and  better  selves  without  becoming,  in  the 
very  act  of  believing,  nobler  and  better.  Out  of  every 
such  strife  between  the  beast  and  the  man,  the  man  comes 
stronger  than  he  was  before  the  struggle.  Every  time 
that  man  wrestles  with  his  baser  self  his  purer  and  nobler 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


113 


self  grows  nobler  and  purer  still.  Yes  !  there  is  a  deep 
meaning  in  that  picture  of  old,  where  the  Tempted  One 
is  described  as  being  with  the  wild  beasts  in  the  wilder- 
ness. In  the  hour  of  sore  temptation,  when  he  wrestles 
for  the  dear  life  of  his  soul  with  the  wild  beast  within 
him,  out  of  that  struggle  does  the  soul  of  man  grow 
strong.  It  needs  such  trial,  just  as  the*  branches  of 
a  tree  need  the  tossing  of  the  wind  that  the  sap  from 
the  root  may  be  made  to  reach  to  its  tiniest  leaflet, 
and  bring  the  life-blood  of  the  plant  through  all  its 
members. 

This,  then,  you  see  is  the  nature  of  this  primary  act  of 
faith.  It  is  in  every  case  a  probation  and  a  discipline  ; 
for  the  man  may  choose,  and  he  must  choose,  which  part 
of  his  nature  he  will  follow,  and  he  cannot  choose  the 
better  part  without  becoming  thereby  better.  Thus,  the 
use  and  object  of  faith  is  to  discipline  and  train  and 
elevate  the  man. 

But  let  us  take  a  step  further.  I  have  said  that  in 
every  case  in  which  a  man  believes  in  his  better  self  he 
thereby  becomes  better.  But  we  have  to  deal  not  only 
with  our  own  higher  and  better  selves ;  we  come  constantly 
into  contact  with  other  natures  and  other  personalities 
than  our  own.  Now,  in  every  case  in  which  you  or  I 
encounter  a  higher  nature  than  our  own,'  what  happens  ? 
Just  the  very  same  trial,  just  the  very  same  discipline 
over  again  which  occurs  when  we  are  dealing  with  our 
own  selves.  For  when  we  come  to  deal  with  or  to  know 
a  higher  nature  than  our  own,  there  is  always  this  trial  to 
the  lower,  that  it  cannot  perfectly  understand  the  higher 
nature.  You  can  easily  see  that  the  higher  nature,  just 
because  it  is  the  higher,  cannot  be  perfectly  understood 
by  the  lower  and  less  perfect  nature.  If  it  could  be 
perfectly  understood,  the  two  would  be  equal.    It  is  of 

i 


114 


CHKISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


the  very  essence,  therefore,  of  the  higher  nature  to  be 
something  of  a  mystery  to  the  lower.  "  The  light  shineth 
in  darkness  ;  and  the  darkness  comprehended  it  not." 
The  animal  that  comes  nearest  to  man,  if  it  could  speak, 
would  tell  us  of  much  that  seems  to  it  utterly  perplexing 
and  incomprehensible  in  the  human  nature  ;  so  the  human 
nature  that*  comes  in  contact  with  a  much  higher  one 
must  find  in  it  much  that  is  perplexing  and  even  distress- 
ing. In  every  such  case  what  happens  ?  A  trial  whether 
the  lower  nature  will  recognize  the  good  that  it  sees  in 
the  higher — whether  it  will  believe  that  nature  to  be  really 
higher  than  itself.  There  is  always  the  possibility  of 
its  saying,  "  This  nature  after  all  is  no  better  than  mine  ; 
I  do  not  believe  in  its  higher  or  greater  goodness."  Have 
you  never  known  among  your  friends  and  acquaintances 
men  much  in  the  habit  of  disparaging  others,  of  impugn- 
ing their  motives,  of  lowering  their  characters — whose 
boast  it  is  to  be  shrewd  and  worldly  wise,  who  tell  you, 
"  We  are  not  easily  imposed  upon  ;  it  is  all  very  well  to 
tell  us  of  this  or  that  man  being  so  very  good ;  we  know 
better  than  that ;  the  man  is  no  such  great  saint,  he  is  no 
better  than  a  great  many  of  us ;  we  know  the  world  a 
good  deal  better  than  to  believe  that "  ?  Do  you  know 
zny  such  men,  and  do  you  generally  find  that  they  are 
the  most  improving  and  valuable  of  your  acquaintances  ? 
Do  you  find  them  generally  men  of  the  highest  and  purest 
tone  of  mind  ?  Or  do  you  not  generally  find  these 
cynical,  bitter,  disparaging  persons,  men  of  a  low  tone  ? 
Are  we  not  tempted  to  say  to  them  :  "You  are  judging 
others  by  yourselves,  and  it  is  because  your  own  nature  is 
so  low  that  you  cannot  give  anyone  credit  for  being  better 
and  higher  than  you  know  yourselves  to  be  "  ?  Do  you 
not  see  ? — these  men  have  actually  lowered  their  own 
nature ;  in  their  hour  of  probation  they  have  sunk  lower 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


115 


than  their  former  selves,  because  they  have  refused  to 
believe  in  anything  higher  and  better  than  themselves. 
But  if,  by  an  act  of  faith,  these  men  could  have  risen  to 
believe  that  the  nature  they  were  dealing  with  was  a 
nobler  one  than  their  own,  in  that  very  hour  their  own 
being  would  have  grown  nobler,  higher,  purer ;  just  in 
the  measure  that  they  appreciated  good  in  another  would 
they  themselves  have  become  better.  So  you  see  that 
an  act  of  faith  for  such  men  would  be  an  act  of  discipline, 
of  moral  culture  and  growth :  for  these,  as  for  the  indi- 
vidual man  dealing  with  himself,  it  would  be  and  it  is 
most  deeply  true,  "  Blessed  are  they  that  have  not  seen, 
and  yet  have  believed." 

We  have  seen  that  in  all  morality  there  is  faith,  that 
in  all  faith  there  is  discipline  and  culture.  But  is  there 
not  something  further  that  we  may  see  and  aim  at  ?  We 
who  believe  in  the  existence  of  higher  natures  than  our 
own,  in  greater  measures  of  justice  and  righteousness  and 
truth  than  we  ourselves  possess — is  there  not  in  the  heart 
of  every  one  of  us  an  instinctive  belief  that  there  must  be 
somewhere  perfect  righteousness,  perfect  truth,  perfect 
holiness  ?  We  seek  for  it.  We  believe  in  it.  Do  we 
ever  find  it  ?  Do  we  not  find  that  the  more  we  know  of 
men,  although  we  may  know  more  of  their  excellences, 
we  are  compelled  to  know  something  more,  too,  of  their 
imperfections  ?  Assuredly  we  find  that  no  one  of  our 
acquaintances,  even  the  very  best  and  highest,  is  free 
from  imperfection.  Now,  when  we  make  this  discovery, 
what  happens  ?  One  of  two  things  happens,  according 
as  we  listen  to  our  understanding  or  to  our  soul.  If  we 
listen  merely  to  the  sceptical  understanding,  what  is  the 
answer  we  get  ?  That  there  is  no  such  thing  possible  as 
absolute  righteousness  ;  that  history  never  revealed  and 
that  our  own  experience  contradicts  it ;  that  what  we  call 


116 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


sin  is  only  the  necessary  imperfection  of  creature  life,  and 
that  there  is  therefore  no  such  thing  as  individual  perfec- 
tion. This  is  the  conclusion  of  the  understanding,  and  it  is 
unanswerable,  if  you  look  only  to  experience.  But  is  this 
the  answer  of  the  soul  and  of  the  heart  of  man  ?  Why, 
you  know  how  the  soul  and  the  heart  in  you  rebel  against 
this  cheerless  teaching.  Tbe  soul  of  man  has  ever  been 
uttering  its  protest  against  this  despairing  creed.  It  has 
ever  been  speaking  out,  in  one  form  or  another,  its  belief 
in  the  reality  of  a  perfect  righteousness,  a  perfect  truth, 
a  perfect  holiness,  if  it  could  only  attain  to  it.  It  is  ever 
reaching  out  after  it  as  a  plant  reaches,  and  twines,  and 
creeps  towards  the  light ;  and  this  very  going  out  of  our 
soul  after  it  is  itself  a  proof  of  its  existence.  It  may  be 
a  dream,  we  are  told  it  is  a  dream — this  idea  of  absolute 
perfection — but  it  is  a  dream  that  has  haunted  humanity 
from  the  hour  of  its  existence.  It  may  be  a  dream,  but 
still  we  feel  it  is  a  dream,  not  of  the  night  but  of  the 
dawning.  It  is  a  dream  that  has  in  it  the  prophecy  of  an 
eternal  day.  Ay,  and  this  belief  comes  to  us  with  that 
twofold  mark  that  stamps  every  true  act  of  faith,  namely 
— trial  and  culture.  It  comes  to  us  in  the  first  place  with 
the  mark  of  discipline  ;  it  is  belief  in  spite  of  difficulty — 
it  is  belief  that  cannot  justify  itself  to  the  understanding. 
The  heart  of  humanity  has  believed  in  the  possible  per- 
fection of  man,  in  spite  of  the  sad  disproof  of  ages  of  sin 
and  wrong  and  misery  and  oppression.  The  long  litany 
of  man's  sorrows  and  sighs  comes  down  to  us  through  all 
the  ages  with  a  wail  of  despairing  denial  of  the  possibility 
of  perfection.  Remedy  after  remedy  has  been  tried  for 
the  evils  of  society,  scheme  after  scheme  has  been  invented 
for  their  prevention,  and  yet  they  confront  us  still  as 
darkly  as  ever.  Yet  still  the  heart  of  man  clings  un- 
waveringly to  the  belief  that  there  is  perfect  goodness 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


117 


somewhere,  though  science  fails  to  demonstrate,  and  civili- 
zation fails  to  bring  it ;  in  spite,  for  instance,  of  the  scenes 
of  the  last  few  months,  though  we  have  seen  the  most 
civilized  and  cultivated  nations  of  the  world  banding 
themselves  for  mutual  destruction,  and  the  fairest  plains 
of  Europe  deluged  with  the  blood  of  the  best  of  her  sons 
— in  spite  of  this  despairing  disproof  of  perfection,  the 
heart  of  man  clings  to  its  faith  in  it  still.  We  do  believe  ; 
we  still  have  faith  in  humanity.  Then  there  is  this  other 
proof  of  the  truth  of  this  faith,  that  it  elevates  the  soul 
that  believes  in  it.  This  belief  in  the  possibility  of 
delivering  man  entirely  from  sin  or  sorrow,  of  finding 
perfect  holiness  and  righteousness  for  man,  is  something 
more  than  the  dream  of  the  poet  or  the  utopia  of  the 
philosopher.  It  is  that  indwelling  might  in  the  heart  of 
the  earnest  worker,  that  gives  him  strength  to  do  his 
daily  deeds  of  mercy  and  of  self-denial.  It  is  this  that 
makes  men  ready  to  suffer  and  toil  and  die  for  their  fellow- 
men.  It  is  the  vision  of  the  travail  of  their  soul  accom- 
plished, the  same  vision  that  hung  before  the  dying  eyes 
of  Him  we  worship — the  vision  of  Him  who,  as  He  was 
dying,  saw  of  "  the  travail  of  His  soul  and  was  satisfied." 
It  is  a  faith  that  cannot  justify  itself  to  the  understand- 
ing— a  faith  that  the  sceptical  part  of  man  laughs  and 
sneers  at — and  yet  it  is  a  faith  deep  as  the  human  heart 
and  old  as  humanity. 

There  is  then  in  very  deed  and  in  a  very  true  sense, 
although  it  be  a  low  sense  comparatively,  a  religion  of 
humanity.  There  is  a  creed  and  an  act  of  faith  for  men, 
even  before  they  enter  within  the  temple  of  the  Most 
High.  There  is  an  altar  at  which  men  do  worship  to 
the  Unknown  God — ay,  and  bring  costly  sacrifices  too. 
Thank  God  for  it,  and  let  us  lovingly  and  thankfully 
recognise  the  fact.    And  this  religion  has  for  its  creed 


118 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


these  articles — "  Man  is  free  ;  he  is  not  a  machine,"  "  Man 
is  moral;  he  is  not  a  bundle  of  passions  and  appetites," 
"  Man  is  responsible ;  he  has  to  answer  for  his  beliefs," 
"  Man  may  yet  be  perfect."  This  is  the  creed  of  natural 
Religion.  There  is  not  an  article  in  it  that  can  justify 
itself  to  the  sceptical  intellecjt,  and  yet  there  is  not  an 
article  in  it  that  the  heart  of  man,  in  its  highest  and  best 
moments,  does  not  cling  to  as  the  very  life  of  its  life. 
"Blessed  are  they  that  have  not  seen,  and  yet  have 
believed." 

And  now  we  take  one  step  further.  "We  have  seen  that 
there  is  a  faith  that  underlies  all  morality  as  well  as  all 
religion,  and  that  this  faith  is  ever  working  the  discipline 
of  the  soul,  and  that  without  it  there  is  no  growth  either 
in  morality  or  in  religion.  Isow  let  us  suppose — suppose 
only  for  argument's  sake — that  for  this  yearning  of  the 
soul,  this  believing  and  aspiring  desire  for  an  infinite  per- 
fection, there  is  a  corresponding  reality.  Let  us  suppose 
for  a  moment  that  there  is  what  the  soul  of  man  has 
believed  in  in  all  ages, — an  absolutely  perfect,  a  supremely 
righteous  and  holy  Being.  Let  us  suppose  again  that  it 
pleased  Him  to  make  of  Himself  a  revelation  to  man ; 
what  should  we  expect  beforehand  concerning  that  reve- 
lation ?  Should  we  not  expect  that  it  would  follow  the 
analogy  of  all  other  revelations  to  the  higher  and  better 
part  of  man's  nature ;  that  this  manifestation  of  the  Per- 
fect One  would  be  of  a  kind  that  would  at  once  test  and 
cultivate  our  moral  and  spiritual  nature ;  that  is  to  say, 
would  come  in  such  a  way  as  to  call  for  an  act  of  faith  ? 
Should  we  not  expect  beforehand  that  if  this  were  a  reve- 
lation of  a  perfect  nature,  it  would  appear  to  our  lower 
natures  in  some  respects  unintelligible,  in  others  myste- 
rious, in  others  (even  as  our  own  nature  appears  to  us  in 
some  points  of  view)  self-contradictory  ?    For  all  myste- 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


119 


ries,  everything  that  we  cannot  understand  must  coma  to 
our  understanding  in  the  shape  of  two  contradictory  pro- 
positions ;  we  view  the  thing  on  two  opposite  sides,  because 
we  cannot  see  it  all  round  and  at  once.  Well,  then,  should 
we  not  expect  that  this  perfect  nature,  in  the  revealing 
of  itself  to  us,  should  thus  try  our  faith  ?  If  it  would 
be  unreasonable  to  expect  that  an  inferior  man  should 
thoroughly  understand  and  appreciate  a  higher  and  a 
better  man  than  himself,  is  it  unreasonable  to  suppose 
that  we  might  find  some  difficulty  in  perfectly  appreciat- 
ing the  nature  of  the  one  supremely  Perfect  Being  ? 
Should  we  not  expect,  judging  from  analogy,  that  we 
might  have  some  difficulties  of  the  same  kind  in  under- 
standing God  that  we  have  in  understanding  one  another ; 
that  there  would  be  the  same  trial  of  our  faith,  the  same 
testing  whether  we  would  choose  to  think  better  or  worse 
of  God — the  same  probation  and  discipline  of  our  spirit 
when  brought  to  apprehend  that  perfect  nature  ?  Surely, 
we  should  beforehand  expect  that  this  would  be  the  case. 
Surely  we  might  say  beforehand  that  a  God  whom  every 
one  could  thoroughly  understand,  who  was  as  easy  to 
comprehend  as  a  proposition  of  Euclid,  could  not  be  the 
true  God,  inasmuch  as  the  human  beings  whom  we  believe 
to  be  made  in  His  Likeness  are  not  thus  easily  intelligible 
to  their  fellow-men.  When  any  one  says  that  he  must 
have  a  God  without  mystery,  ask  him,  "  Do  you  know  a 
man  who  is  not  a  mystery  to  you  ?  Are  you  not  a  mystery 
to  yourself  ?  And  yet  you  say  you  will  not  believe  in  God, 
the  Maker  of  us  all,  until  you  can  thoroughlv  understand 
Him  !  "  Why,  a  God  whom  you  could  thoroughly  under- 
stand would  be  no  God.  He  dwells  in  light — in  ineffable 
light.  In  Him  there  is  no  shadow  of  darkness.  But  it 
is  light  which  (from  its  very  brightness)  no  man  can 
approach  unto.    We  maintain,  therefore,  that  if  there  be 


120 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


a  revelation  of  God  at  all,  it  must  be  one  that  shall  try 
the  faith  of  man. 

But  we  should  expect,  also,  that  it  would  he  a  revela- 
tion of  God  by  means  of  a  person,  because  we  know  that 
the  highest  tendencies  of  our  being,  at  its  best  moments, 
are  ever  to  find  a  righteous  personality  ;  we  should  expect, 
therefore,  that  if  there  came  to  us  a  revelation  of  God  it 
would  not  come  merely  in  the  form  of  certain  propositions 
or  doctrines,  but  in  the  manifesting  of  a  nature.  Now  we 
Christians  say  that  we  have  this.  We  say,  in  the  first 
place,  that  there  is  given  us  a  revelation  of  the  working 
of  a  Divine  will,  and  the  purposes  of  a  Divine  Designer, 
in  the  works  of  His  hands.  "We  believe  that  His  invisible 
things  are  revealed  by  the  visible ;  that  there  is  that  in 
the  world  around  us  which  testifies  to  a  Creator  and  a 
Designer.  "We  say  we  believe  this,  because  there  is  an 
instinct  in  us,  which  for  every  work  of  art  supposes  an 
artist,  for  every  design  a  designer.  We  say  that  "  the 
heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God ;  and  the  firmament 
showeth  His  handywork  "  ;  that  "  day  unto  day  uttereth 
speech,  and  night  unto  night  sheweth  knowledge."  Yet 
we  also  say  that  this  revelation  follows  the  law  of  all 
other  revelations  to  faith  ;  that  there  must  be  a  possibility 
of  denying  it.  There  must  be  a  probation,  there  must  be 
a  discipline  here  as  in  every  case  in  which  faith  is  called 
into  play  ;  and,  therefore,  although  the  world  reveals, 
it  does  not  demonstrate  its  Maker.  The  heavens  are 
declaring  His  glory  and  the  firmament  is  showing  His 
handywork,  and  day  unto  day  is  uttering  speech,  and 
night  unto  night  is  shewing  knowledge  ;"  but  the  speech 
is — like  the  speech  of  all  things  spiritual — speech  to  those 
who  icill  to  hear  it ;  the  knowledge  is  still  for  those  who 
choose  to  receive  it ;  if  men  will,  they  may  put  it  from 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


121 


them.  Yes,  it  is  an  awful  power  we  possess  of  refusing  to 
see  God.  There  is  nothing,  there  can  be  nothing,  God 
has  willed  there  shall  be  nothing  in  the  world,  that  shall 
demonstrate  Himself,  that  shall  make  it  impossible  for  man 
to  doubt  of  His  existence.  It  is  now  as  it  was  of  old. 
Inasmuch  as  men  did  not  choose — oh  !  mark  this  word — to 
retain  God  in  their  knowledge,  God  gave  them  over  to  a 
reprobate  mind.  There  is  a  necessity  even  in  this  first 
and  simplest  manifestation  of  God  that  it  should  try  the 
faith  of  man. 

Once  more ;  we  Christians  believe  not  only  that  God 
has  revealed  Himself  in  His  works,  but  that  He  has 
revealed  Himself  in  His  Word — in  His  Incarnate  Word. 
We  do  believe  that,  in  answer  to  the  craving  desire  of  the 
soul  of  man  to  look  upon  human  perfection,  this  earth  has 
once  been  visited  by  a  perfect  man.  We  do  believe  that 
in  the  story  of  the  Gospels  we  possess  that  which  no 
imperfect  human  soul  could  ever  have  imagined — the 
lineaments  of  a  perfect  human  being.  We  do  believe  that 
in  this  picture  which  friends  and  foes  have  looked  upon 
almost  with  equal  admiration,  if  not  with  equal  love,  we 
possess  the  manifestation  of  the  perfect  righteousness 
of  an  absolutely  sinless  man.  We  are  not  asking  now 
whether  this  is  really  so ;  we  only  say  such  is  our  belief, 
the  deep  conviction  of  our  souls.  But  if  this  be  so,  then 
you  would  expect  before  you  opened  a  page  of  the  Gospels 
— before  you  read  a  line  of  that  wondrous  life — that 
according  to  the  analogy  of  all  other  holy  and  righteous 
lives  we  know  of,  this  life  should  not  demonstrate  itself, 
should  not  make  it  an  impossibility  for  the  sceptical 
intellect  to  find  fault  with  it ;  that  it  should  only  reveal 
itself  to  those  whose  lives  were  in  some  measure  like  it, — 
that  its  wisdom  should  justify  itself,  but  only  to  the 
children  of  wisdom.    Judging  from  experience,  judging 


122 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


from  analogy,  judging  from  the  way  in  which  good  men 
are  treated  by  bad  men  and  the  higher  nature  is  regarded 
by  the  lower,  you  would  not  expect  that  the  perfect  life 
should  be  thoroughly  understood  by  every  nature  that  it 
comes  in  contact  with.  You  would  expect  to  hear  just 
what  the  story  tells  you — how  He  was  despised  and 
rejected  of  men  ;  how  those  who  saw  Him  besought  Him 
that  He  would  depart  out  of  their  coasts.  If  the  revela- 
tion of  a  person  and  a  nature — a  perfect  person  and  a  per- 
fect nature — is  to  follow  the  analogy  of  all  like  revelations 
that  we  know  of,  of  all  revelations  of  a  higher  to  a  lower 
nature,  then  we  must  expect  that  this  law  will  govern  it 
that  governs  all  those  others ;  that  there  shall  be  in  it, 
too,  room  for  doubt  and  trial  of  faith ;  and  that  to  those, 
and  those  only,  who  conquer  the  doubt  and  exercise  the 
faith,  will  the  promise  be  realised  in  its  very  highest 
form,  "  Blessed  are  they  that  have  not  seen,  and  yet  have 
believed." 

It  was  in  the  might  of  this  faith, — not  faith  in  a  series 
of  propositions  merely,  not  faith  in  a  collection  of  dogmas 
only,  although  they  did  believe  the  propositions  and  did 
hold  the  dogmas, — it  was  in  the  might  of  faith  in  this 
person,  in  the  strength  of  their  trust  in  this  nature, — that 
the  disciples  of  this  Perfect  One  went  out  to  conquer  the 
world.  What  was  it  that  gathered  believing  multitudes 
round  the  disciples  of  Christ  ?  What  was  it  that  emptied 
the  temples  of  heathendom  over  so  large  a  portion  of  the 
Roman  Empire,  within  so  short  a  time  of  His  death  ? 
Was  it  the  higher  morality — was  it  the  exquisite  teaching 
of  Jesus — that  did  this  ?  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  to  read 
carefully  the  Acts  and  the  letters  of  His  Apostles,  and  to 
see  how  very  few  of  the  words  of  Christ  appear  there  ? 
When  the  Apostles  gathered  the  multitudes  about  them 
in  the  synagogue,  or  market-place,  or  forum,  did  they  say, 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


123 


"  Come  and  listen  to  the  beautiful  morality  of  Jesus  the 
Prophet !  Hearken  to  the  wonderful  teachings  of  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount"  ?  They  did  not  do  this.  You 
will  not  find  a  quotation  from  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount, 
or  a  repetition  of  any  of  the  teachings  of  our  Saviour,  in 
the  whole  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  hardly  one  in 
the  Epistles.  What  did  the  first  preachers  of  Christianity 
do  ?  They  gathered  the  multitude  about  them,  not  by 
preaching  the  words  of  Christ,  but  by  preaching  Christ. 
They  did  not  say,  "  Come  and  listen  to  this  sermon,"  but 
they  said,  "  Come  and  believe  this  man."  It  was  the  per- 
sonality, the  life  and  death,  the  resurrection  and  ascen- 
sion of  Christ  which  proved  so  attractive.  It  was  a 
person,  a  nature,  a  man  that  they  asked  men  to  believe 
in,  and  not  merely  in  the  teaching  of  a  man.  And 
the  result  is  the  singular  and  remarkable  fact  that  Jesus 
Christ  is  the  only  teacher  who  is  greater  than  His  teach- 
ing. All  other  teachers  have  fallen  into  comparative 
insignificance  compared  to  their  teaching.  We  think  a 
great  deal,  for  instance,  of  the  teaching  of  Euclid,  but 
who  cares  about  the  life  of  Euclid  ?  The  words  of  all 
other  men  have  become  greater  than  the  men  themselves, 
but  Christ  is  to  this  day  greater  than  His  words.  Men 
are  fond  of  comparing  Christ  to  Socrates  ;  of  saying  that 
His  teaching  is  like  Socrates'  teaching  ;  that  His  death  is 
like  Socrates'  death.  Let  us  take  it  to  be  so.  Did  any 
one  ever  hear  of  a  devoted  disciple  of  Socrates  saying,  "  I 
am  dead  with  Socrates ;  I  live  in  Socrates  ;  the  life  that 
I  live  I  live  by  faith  in  Socrates ;  Socrates  is  in  me  and  I 
in  Socrates"  ?  Was  ever  such  a  word  heard  of  any  teacher 
save  One  ?  How  comes  it  then  that  within  a  few  months 
after  the  death  of  this  Teacher,  His  disciples  were  saying 
this  and  nothing  but  this  ;  that  men  were  not  quoting  His 
words,  but  were  believing  in  His  life  and  death  ?    It  was 


124 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


because  the  faith  of  the  human  soul  had  gone  out  to 
the  person  and  nature  and  work  of  Christ ;  the  hope  of 
humanity  had  triumphed  in  the  discovery  of  the  Perfect 
Man,  just  as  the  conscience  of  humanity  had  rejoiced  in 
the  discovery  of  the  Perfect  Saviour. 

And  now  we  have  reached  the  last  point  to  which  I  have 
desired  to  bring  you  in  these  sermons.  We  have  reached 
the  point  at  which,  leaving  speculations  as  to  what  might 
be,  or  ought  to  be,  we  arrive  at  the  historical  facts  which 
we  assert  have  been.  Others  will  take  up  the  argument 
here,  and  go  on  to  show  you  from  history  or  prophecy,  or 
miracle,  such  evidences  as  the  facts  of  the  Christian  story 
may  furnish.  My  task  ends  with  the  attempt  to  remove 
those  stumbling-blocks  which  might  prevent  your  coming 
to  hear  them.  It  will  be  their  task  to  lead  you  onwards 
from  the  door  of  the  temple  to  its  very  innermost  shrine  ; 
it  has  been  mine  to  lead  you  up  these  three  steps,  as  it 
were,  just  to  the  very  threshold.  In  the  way  of  those 
whom  we  would  bring  within  the  temple  of  Christianity 
we  have  ever  found  that  those  three  things  of  which  we 
have  been  speaking  in  these  sermons  have  been  difficulties 
— honestly  and  really  felt — difficulties  that  have  kept 
many  from  entering  in.  The  first  of  these  has  been  the 
belief  that  Christianity  is  opposed  to  free- thought :  and  I 
have  endeavoured  to  show  you  that  in  the  true  sense  and 
meaning  of  this  word  "free-thought,"  Christianity  does 
not  deny,  but  asserts  it ;  or  that  where  it  does  deny  it,  it 
denies  it  no  more  than  law  and  society  and  nature  deny  it. 
The  second  difficulty  we  have  had  to  deal  with  has  been 
this  :  that  men  have  demanded  that  all  the  objections  that 
the  sceptical  intellect  can  raise  shall  be  solved  before  they 
become  Christians ;  and  I  have  endeavoured  to  show  you 
that  though  scepticism  be  fatal  to  Christianity,  it  is  equally 
fatal  to  morality — and  to  all  the  higher  forms  of  human 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


125 


life  ;  and  therefore  that  in  requiring  the  submission  of  the 
sceptical  understanding  to  the  soul,  Christianity  is  only- 
doing  what  morality  in  all  ages  has  done.  And  to-night 
what  have  we  been  doing  ?  We  have  been  answering  the 
objection  that  is  so  often  made  that  Christianity  is  obliged 
to  appeal  to  faith,  because  it  cannot  furnish  demonstra- 
tion. Our  answer  is  tbat  all  the  demonstration  that  is 
possible  in  the  nature  of  the  case, — all  the  demonstration 
that  is  possible  for  history, — all  the  demonstration  that  is 
necessary  for  the  supernatural, — Christianity  does  bring  ; 
but  that,  and  beyond  this,  it  does  make  an  appeal  to  man's 
faith,  and  that,  in  so  doing,  not  only  does  it  act  according 
to  the  analogy  of  human  life  and  human  morals,  but  by 
its  very  appeal  to  faith,  it  justifies  its  claim  to  be  a  true 
religion,  a  true  gift  from  God  to  man. 

And  now  the  time  has  come  for  closing  this  series  of 
discourses,  in  which  I  have  endeavoured  to  set  before  you 
what  I  believe  in  my  inmost  soul  to  be  the  truth,  and  the 
truth  only,  so  far  as  I  have  learnt  it.  And  before  we 
part,  I  wish  to  ask  those  of  you  who  believe  not,  just  this 
one  question  : — Why — in  all  honesty  and  candour — do 
you  suppose  that  I  am  here  ?  Why  do  you  suppose  that 
the  chief  ministers  of  this  place  have  asked  me  and  others 
to  come  here  ?  There  may  be  those  who  will  tell  you  that 
we  come  here  because  we  are  priests  and  bigots,  and  wish 
to  keep  you  in  ignorance,  for  that  we  derive  some  great 
profit  from  keeping  you  in  ignorance.  Do  you  really  be- 
lieve, then,  that  we  come  with  the  design  of  deceiving  and 
misleading  you  ?  Will  you  not  give  me  credit  for  this  at 
least,  that  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  in  all  honesty  and 
with  all  earnestness,  and  as  before  God,  in  whom  I  believe, 
I  have  endeavoured  to  put  before  you  reasons  which  seem 
to  me  sufficient  reasons  for  my  belief, — reasons  on  which 
I  stake  the  eternal  future  of  my  life, — and  which  I  submit 


126 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


to  you  why  you  also  should  believe  for  your  souls'  sake  ? 
Hear  us,  then,  for  this  reason,  if  for  no  other, — that  we  do 
desire  your  souls  for  our  Lord  and  Master.  It  is  in  His 
name,  and  for  your  sake,  that  we  have  come  among  you. 
It  is  because  we  believe  that  He  of  whom  we  have  spoken 
is  the  very  Son  of  God  come  down  from  Heaven,  who  has 
given  us  the  mission  to  make  His  name  known  to  men, — 
it  is  for  this  reason  that  we  are  here  to  speak  to  you ;  to 
you  who  believe, — that  we  may,  with  God's  help,  deepen 
your  faith  ;  to  those  who  believe  not, — that,  if  it  may  be 
so  by  God's  great  mercy,  we  may  shake  your  unbelief. 
We  come  to  you  with  a  word  that  we  believe  to  be  a  word 
from  God, — a  word  that  exhorts  you  to  belief  and  faith — 
a  word  that  exhorts  you  to  follow  the  higher  and  not  the 
lower  part  of  your  nature  ; — we  have  this  word  for  you  : 
"  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and  ye  shall  be  saved  !  " 
If  there  are  those  here  who  do  not  believe  the  first  part 
of  that  message,  there  are  none  here  who  do  not  at  least 
wish  to  believe,  in  some  sort,  the  second  part  of  it.  Men 
do  need  to  be  saved, — saved,  if  not  in  the  next,  in  this 
world, — delivered,  if  it  might  be,  from  some  of  the  sin  and 
sorrow  that  weigh  so  heavily  upon  every  human  heart  and 
every  human  life.  Is  there  no  need  of  faith,  or  if  no  need 
of  faith,  is  there  no  desire  for  the  objects  of  faith  among 
men  ?  Have  we  no  need  of  faith  at  this  moment  ?  The 
world  is  growing  old  and  sick  at  heart.  All  the  remedies 
that  have  been  devised  from  time  to  time  for  the  evils  of 
society  and  the  sorrows  of  humanity  have  been  tried  to 
very  exhaustion,  and  tried  in  vain.  Idol  after  idol  that 
men  have  set  up  and  sacrificed  to  has  been  rocked  from  its 
base  and  shivered  into  fragments.  The  gods  that  men 
have  worshipped  have  been  taken  away  again  and  again. 
And  again  and  again  has  the  cry  of  despair  risen,  "  What 
have  we  left  ?"    Faith  ! — faith  in  the  future  of  humanity  ! 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


127 


What  answer  does  the  past  give  to  this  ?  In  all  the  past 
ages  is  there  one  proof  that  in  this  world,  constituted  as 
it  is,  there  shall  ever  be  perfection  of  our  nature  ?  Faith 
in  what  ?  Faith  in  science  !  Did  science  ever  comfort  a 
sorrow  ?  Did  science  ever  heal  a  broken  heart  ?  Faith 
in  civilization  ?  Did  civilization  ever  yet  remedy  the  evils 
that  are  burrowing  and  festering  into  the  very  heart  of 
society  ?  Civilization  !  It  means  in  the  present  day  the 
gathering  of  men  together  more  and  more  in  great  masses. 
It  means  the  luxurious,  artistic,  voluptuous  life  of  great 
towns.  It  means  the  wan,  weary,  toilsome,  haggard  life 
of  those  who  in  those  same  great  towns  must  minister  to 
that  life  of  ease  and  wealth.  It  means  the  rich  growing 
very  rich.  It  means  the  poor  growing  very  poor.  Civi- 
lization has  its  dark  shadow  of  degradation  ever  following 
on  its  track — the  darker  by  contrast  with  its  light.  Civi- 
lization and  science  !  Have  they  arrested  war  ?  Have 
they  softened  the  heart  of  humanity  ?  Civilization  and 
art  and  science ! — why,  they  are  busy  making  mitrail- 
leuses, and  inventing  the  newest  and  most  sweepingly 
destructive  methods  of  murder  !  Where  will  you  find,  in 
any  one  of  those  things  that  men  worship,  a  substitute  for 
God  ?  Where  will  you  find  in  these  leaves  of  the  tree  of 
knowledge  "the  healing  of  the  nations"?  Yes!  we 
should  indeed  be  mocking  you  if  we  spoke,  as  some  speak, 
of  a  coming  millennium  of  science  and  art — we  should 
indeed  be  mocking  you  if  we  spoke  of  the  possibility  of 
the  natural  condition  of  man  being  remedied  without  super- 
natural help.  We  believe  in  the  perfection  of  humanity, 
but  not  in  this  life.  We  believe  in  a  millennium  yet  to 
come — not  in  this  world,  but  in  that  which  is  yet  to  be 
revealed.  We  believe  in  an  eternal  peace,  but  it  is  to  be 
at  the  coming  of  the  Prince  of  Peace.  It  is  in  this  faith 
and  this  alone  that  we  gain  courage  to  look  upon  the  sins 


128 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  FAITH. 


and  sorrows — the  deadly  sins,  the  weary  sorrows — that 
afflict  humanity.  It  is  in  the  strength  of  this  faith  that 
we  bear  each  one  of  us  our  own  griefs  and  carry  our  own 
sorrows.  It  is  in  the  strength  of  this  faith  that  we  can 
look  for  the  last  time  into  unclosed  graves,  and  though 
with  lips  that  are  white  and  quivering  with  agony,  can 
raise  the  song  of  Christian  triumph  over  death  and  despair, 
and  looking  onward  into  the  distant  future,  which  that 
hour  of  sorrow  seems  to  bring  so  very  near,  we  can  thank 
God  again  and  again  for  the  message  that  He  has  given 
us,  and  that  we  give  you  here  in  His  name  to-night : — 
"  Blessed  " — thrice  blessed  ! — "  are  they  that  have  not 
seen,  and  yet  have  believed." 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


K 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


Peeached  in  Norwich  Cathedeal,  December  12th,  1871. 

"  And  His  name,  through  faith  in  His  name,  hath  made  this  man 
strong,  whom  ye  see  and  know :  yea,  the  faith  which  is  by  Him  hath 
given  him  this  perfect  soundness  in  the  presence  of  you  all." — Acts  iii. 
16. 

IN  these  words  Christianity,  as  we  Christians  understand 
it,  finds  its  perfect  type  and  representation.  Suffering 
humanity  healed  by  a  Divine  power,  that  power  residing 
in  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  faith  in  that  personal 
Christ  the  condition  of  that  healing  ;  this  is  distinctively 
Christianity.  This  is  its  gospel — the  "  good  news  "  that 
it  has  for  mankind.  It  is  in  this  that  Christianity  differs 
from  all  other  religions.  Christianity  shares  with  many 
other  religions  a  belief  in  a  personal  God,  in  a  future  life, 
in  rewards  and  punishments  after  death,  in  atonement  and 
forgiveness  by  sacrifice.  These  are  not  distinctively  Chris- 
tian ideas,  though  they  are  Christian  ideas.  But  Chris- 
tianity stands  alone,  distinguished  from  all  other  religions, 
in  this — that  it  asserts  that  a  personal  and  living  God 
saves  men  through  faith  in  a  living  and  personal  Christ. 

Now,  if  you  remember  the  sermons  that  I  lately 
preached  here,  you  will  remember  that  I  endeavoured  to 
show  you — and  I  think  I  did  show  you — that  salvation 
by  faith  is  no  new  doctrine  or  idea,  is  not  peculiar  to 
Christianity ;  that  we  must  every  one  of  us  be  saved 
from  very  great  evils  by  faith  ;  that  faith  lies  at  the  root 


132  THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIEIT. 


of  all  morality,  for  that,  if  we  are  to  be  moral  at  all,  it 
can  only  be  by  an  act  of  faitb  in  our  own  conscience  and 
spiritual  nature ;  so  that,  whether  men  are  or  are  not  to 
be  saved  from  a  hell  hereafter  by  faith,  it  is  quite  certain 
they  can  be  saved  by  faith  alone  from  a  hell  here,  the 
hell  that  would  come  upon  earth  if  morality  ever  ceased 
to  exist.  And  we  saw  further  how  this  faith  in  our  own 
moral  being  leads  us  on  to  put  like  faith  in  others  than 
ourselves.  For  when  we  say,  that  we  have  faith  in  our 
moral  nature,  we  do  not  surely  mean  in  our  nature  as 
differing  from  that  of  other  men ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is 
only  so  far  as  we  believe  this  to  be  true  for  all  men  that 
we  feel  it  must  be  true  for  us.  This  faith,  then,  in  the 
morality  of  human  nature  is  capable  of  being  increased 
by  every  instance  of  moral  humanity  that  we  encounter. 
Every  man  whom  I  see  acting  out  a  faith  in  his  own 
better  self,  ruling  himself  by  the  higher  law  he  finds 
within  him,  confirms  my  belief  in  that  law ;  and  so  he 
becomes  to  me,  not  merely  a  teacher,  or  an  example,  but 
a  helper  and  deliverer.  He  helps  to  save  me  from  my 
lower  and  baser  self.  On  the  other  hand  I  may  refuse 
such  help,  I  may  turn  away  from  the  light  of  such  a  life, 
lest  my  deeds  be  reproved  by  it;  but  just  in  the  degree 
in  which  I  do  this  do  I  lose  my  faith  in  human  nature ; 
I  have  adopted  a  lower  ?'andard  for  humanity  than  that 
which  really  exists,  and  the  lower  standard  that  I  thus 
adopt  I  conform  to.  My  moral  growth  is  checked ;  my 
moral  decay  and  death  has  begun.  And  thus  every  such 
purer  and  nobler  spirit  that  we  encounter  becomes  our 
probation.  Faith  in  him  will  help  and  distrust  of  him 
will  hurt  our  spiritual  life.  "We  must  be  the  better  or 
the  worse  for  having  known  him,  and  which  we  shall  be 
depends  upon  our  own  free  choice.  And  thus  whenever 
there  appears  in  history  some  nature  pre-eminently  good 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT.  133 


and  beautiful — some  great  soul,  some  true  prophet  of 
righteousness — those  who  own  and  accept  him  as  such 
are  saved  by  him  in  a  very  real  sense  ;  while  on  the  other 
hand  those  who  reject  him  suffer  grievous  loss.  They  are 
punished  by  that  darkening  of  the  soul  that  ever  follows 
on  the  choice  of  evil  rather  than  good.  Not  in  Judea 
only,  but  everywhere,  in  all  ages,  the  people  that  refuses 
to  hear  its  true  prophets  perishes.  Salvation  by  faith  in 
other  persons  than  ourselves — distrust  in  ourselves  and 
trust  in  others — is  thus,  you  see,  actually  necessary  to 
salvation,  even  though  the  Christian  religion  had  never 
been  heard  of. 

And  in  this  sense  I  am  sure  that  many  who  are  not 
Christians  would  admit  that  Jesus  Christ  has  in  time  past 
saved  those  who  believed  in  Him.  That  is  to  say — they 
would  admit  that  He  has  been  very  helpful  to  men's 
spiritual  life ;  so  helpful  that  He  might  even  with  truth 
be  called  a  saviour  of  men.  But  here  is  where  they  and 
we  differ.  We  say  that  Christ  is  to  us  much  more  than 
this.  We  say  that  He  is  not  only  a  saviour,  one  of  the 
many  saviours  of  men,  but  that  He  is  the  Saviour ;  that 
He  has  a  salvation  to  work  for  us  that  none  other  did  or 
can  work.  "We  say  that  He  saves  and  helps  us  not  only 
by  His  teaching  and  example  naturally,  but  by  His  death 
and  by  His  life  supernaturally  :  that  He  has  that  to  give 
us  since  His  death  and  ascension  to  Heaven  that  no  one 
else  has  to  give ;  and  that  faith  in  His  name  has  saved, 
is  saving,  will  save,  men  as  nothing  else  can. 

Here  then  lies  the  real  difference  between  us  and  our 
opponents.  They,  for  the  most  part,  tell  us  that 
though  it  is  true  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  was  very  useful 
to  humanity  at  a  certain  stage  of  its  development,  yet 
that  humanity  needs  Him  no  longer.  We  now  know  all 
that  He  had  to  tell  men.    His  pure  morality,  nis  sublime 


134 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SHRIT. 


ethics,  are  ours  now  as  truly  as  they  were  once  His.  We 
see  all  that  He  saw,  and  just  as  clearly ;  nay,  some  say, 
more  clearly  than  He  ever  did.  "We  may  even  correct 
His  errors  and  improve  upon  His  teaching.  "We  must 
pass  Him  by  now,  respectfully  and  gratefully  if  you  will, 
but  still  we  must  pass  Him  by,  if  we  would  move  on  with 
the  more  advanced  and  nobler  spirits  of  the  age,,  for 
whom  faith  in  any  teacher  or  in  any  thing,  save  the 
intuitions  of  their  own  great  souls,  has  become  impossible. 
The  progress  of  humanity,  too  long  arrested  around  Geth- 
semane  and  Calvary,  is  to  receive  a  fresh  impulse  when 
we  have  shaken  off  our  old  superstitious  belief  in  the 
person  of  Jesus.  Christendom  must  learn  to  do  without 
its  Christ ;  but  they  are  good  enough  to  assure  us  that 
this  need  cause  us  no  distress,  for  already  they  can  see 
how  "  up  the  heaven  is  climbing  the  sun  of  a  new  day !  " 

We  say,  on  the  contrary,  that  Jesus  Christ  is  still 
essential  to  the  true  spiritual  life  of  men — that  we  cannot 
do  without  Him ;  cannot  afford  to  pass  Him  by.  We 
say,  that  the  true  centre  of  humanity,  the  root  of  all  true 
buman  progress,  is  just  that  very  Christ,  whom  they 
exhort  us  to  forget  and  leave  behind  in  our  onward  march 
to  their  new  promised  land.  Christ  crucified,  we  main- 
tain, is  still  to  us  and  to  all  who  believe  in  Him,  not  only 
wisdom,  but  power — a  supernatural  power — saving  men 
as  nothing  else  can  save. 

The  question  then  between  Christianity  and  all  other 
religions  is  just  this — What  relations  are  there  between 
Jesus  Christ  and  the  human  soul  ?  Are  these  relations 
merely  natural,  such  as  might  exist  between  our  spirits 
and  any  of  the  greater,  nobler  spirits  of  the  past ;  or  are 
they  supernatural,  and  such  as  can  exist  only  between  the 
Christ  of  Christianity  and  our  souls  ?  This  is  the  question 
on  which  I  have  to  speak  to  you  to-night. 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


135 


Now,  there  are  two  ways  in  which  we  may  attempt  to 
find  an  answer  to  this  question.  One  is  what  is  commonly 
called  the  historical  mode  of  investigation.  We  may  set 
ahout  it  in  this  way.  We  may  say — "  Eighteen  hundred 
years  ago  there  lived  one  who  was  known  as  Jesus  of 
Nazareth ;  He  wrought  certain  miraculous  works ;  He 
fulfilled  certain  miraculous  prophecies  ;  and  these  works 
and  these  fulfilled  prophecies  are  evidence  that  He  came 
from  God,  and  that  He  was  divinely  inspired  infallibly  to 
tell  us  what  is  truth.  Hence  we  have  only  to  ask  Him 
what  He  is  to  us,  and  whatever  He  says  concerning  Him- 
self we  are  bound  to  believe."  This  is  the  historical  proof 
of  Christianity,  and  it  is  a  most  important  and  essential 
part  of  the  evidences  of  Christianity.  Christianity  is  an 
historical  religion,  and  it  must  have  historical  proof. 
Christianity  is  a  supernatural  religion,  and  it  must  have 
supernatural  evidences.  But  it  is  often  objected  that  this 
is  a  difficult  line  of  proof  for  plain,  ordinary  men ;  that 
before  they  can  accept  it  they  must  decide  a  number  of 
nice  and  difficult  questions  of  history,  of  criticism,  of 
metaphysics,  and  even  of  physical  science ;  and  we  are 
triumphantly  asked — Can  it  be  possible  that  a  religion 
which  claims  to  be  a  gospel  for  the  poor,  needs  all  theso 
laborious  and  intricate  evidences  to  prove  it  ?  Surely  a 
revelation  from  God,  intended  for  the  masses  of  man- 
kind, should  have  had  simpler  and  plainer  credentials 
than  these.  Now  to  this  objection  we  might  make  more 
than  one  reply.  We  might  say  that  these  critical  and 
metaphysical  difficulties  are  not  those  that  very  much 
trouble  plain  and  poor  men.  They  are  mostly  difficulties 
that  are  raised,  and  have  to  be  answered,  by  learned  men. 
Or  we  might  say  that  we  have  no  right  beforehand  to 
dictate  to  God  that  His  way  of  salvation  shall  be  an  easy 
one.    We  have  no  more  right  to  say  that  we  should  have 


136  THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


an  easy  way  to  Heaven  than  that  we  should,  every  one  of 
us,  have  an  easy  life  on  earth.  But  our  answer  to-night 
is,  that  this  is  not  the  only  line  of  proof  for  Christianity. 
It  is  a  most  valuable  and  necessary  line,  but  it  is  not  the 
only  one.  There  is  another  simpler  evidence,  one  level 
to  the  capacity  of  all  men,  and  it  is  of  this  I  am  going  to 
speak.  Instead  of  going  back  eighteen  hundred  years 
ago  to  ascertain  certain  alleged  facts  in  history,  suppose 
we  begin  with  ascertaining  certain  facts  in  our  own  expe- 
rience and  our  own  life.  Let  us  begin  in  the  year  1871 
and  go  back  to  the  year  1,  and  not  begin  in  the  year  1 
and  come  down  to  the  year  1871.  Are  there  no  facts 
that  you  and  I  know  of  in  our  own  personal  experience, 
with  which  we  may  begin,  and  reason  back  from  to  those 
other  remoter  historical  evidences  of  Christianity.  We 
think  there  are,  and  they  are  these :  Our  Lord  J esus 
Christ  says  that  He  came  into  this  world  to  be  the 
Saviour  of  sinners ;  that  He  came  to  seek  and  to  save  the 
lost.  "When  He  says  this,  He  asserts  two  things  : — First, 
that  there  is  such  a  fact  as  sin ;  and,  secondly,  that  there 
is  such  a  fact  as  salvation  from  sin.  Is  it  true,  then,  that 
there  are  such  facts  in  this  world  as  sin  and  salvation 
from  sin  ?  And  is  it  further  true  that  this  salvation 
from  sin  is  attained  by  those  who  believe  in  Jesus  Christ, 
in  a  degree  in  which  it  is  not  attained  by  others  ?  Now, 
here  are  questions  of  fact  within  our  own  knowledge,  that 
we  can  all  test  for  ourselves. 

Is  there  such  a  thing  in  the  world  now  as  sin  ?  I  sup- 
pose that  all  are  agreed  that  at  least  there  is  such  a  thing 
in  the  world  as  moral  imperfection.  There  is  no  one 
wbo  has  any  sense  of  duty  whatever,  who  does  not  know 
how  often  he  falls  short  of  his  own  standard  of  right — 
however  low  that  standard  may  be.  And  he  knows,  too, 
that  this  failure  to  do  right  is  accompanied  by  a  sense  of 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT.  137 


pain  and  distress  peculiar  to  itself.  Every  one  in  this 
congregation  who  has  ever  tried  to  live  righteously — and 
he  who  has  never  so  tried  has  no  right  to  talk  about  reli- 
gion— but  every  one  who  has  so  tried,  knows  two  things  : 
one  is  that  he  often  fails  in  his  endeavour,  another  is 
that,  when  he  does  so,  he  feels  a  sense  of  self-reproach. 
This  is  not  the  case  with  any  other  imperfections  ;  they 
may  cause  us  pain,  but  not  pain  of  this  kind.  No  man 
believes  himself  mentally  or  bodily  perfect,  and  yet  no 
man  dreams  of  blaming  himself  because  he  is  not  so.  We 
should  laugh  at  the  man  who  told  us  that  he  bitterly 
reproached  himself  because  he  could  not  write  like  Shake- 
speare ;  or  suffered  agonies  of  remorse  because  he  could  not 
paint  Like  Raffaelle.  But  we  do  not  laugh  at — we  sym- 
pathise with — the  man  who  tells  us  that  he  grieves  and 
reproaches  himself  because  he  cannot  live  like  Paul  or 
Christ.  We  feel  that  such  a  man  is  suffering  from  that 
strange  pain,  which  all  men  feel  who  strive  and  yet  fail 
to  live  righteously.  We  feel  that  he  is  testifying  to  that 
mysterious  fact  in  our  nature,  that  we  are  at  once  aware 
that  we  cannot  realize  our  own  ideal  of  righteousness,  and 
yet  unhappy  because  of  that  inability. 

To  this  moral  weakness  men  give  different  names 
according  to  the  theory  they  have  formed  as  to  its  nature 
or  origin.  They  may  differ  widely,  too,  as  to  the  proper 
remedy  for  it,  or  as  to  whether  there  be  any  remedy  for 
it  at  all.  But  all  agree  that  it  exists,  and  all  admit  that 
deliverance  from  it  would  be  the  salvation  of  mankind. 

So  far  then  all  are  agreed.  There  is  a  defect  in  our 
nature  which  most  men  call  sin,  and  from  which  if  we 
are  ever  to  be  saved,  it  must  be  by  acquiring  in  some  way 
or  other  the  power  to  be  righteous.  And  of  this  salvation 
he  must  speak,  who  would  commend  himself  to  the  con- 
sciences of  men.    Of  course  his  utterance  may  be,  that  on 


138 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


this  subject  the  human  conscience  has  hitherto  been  alto- 
gether mistaken.     He  may  have  to  announce  to  us  the 
discovery  that  this  imperfection  which  distresses  us  is 
really  inevitable,  and  therefore  blameless ;  and  that  all 
those  pangs  and  fears  by  which  the  human  soul  has,  in 
all  ages  past,  been  afflicted  on  account  of  it,  were  all  one 
long  hypochondria  ;  from  which,  strange  to  stay,  the  best 
and  noblest  amongst  men  have  been  the  greatest  sufferers, 
tormenting  themselves  with  a  vain  endeavour  after  an 
ideal  perfection,  terrifying  themselves  with  imaginary 
guilt  and  imaginary  penalties  for  their  failure  to  attain 
it.     Or  he  may  cheer  us  with  the  assurance  that  this 
salvation  will  be  ultimately  attained  in  the  progress  of 
the  race  of  man  through  remotely  distant  ages ;  and  that 
the  contemplation  of  this  remote  millennium  for  others, 
in  which  we  can  have  no  share,  should  infinitely  console 
and  strengthen  us  through  all  the  trials  and  sorrows  of 
our  present  lives.    Or  he  may  inform  us  that  this  salva- 
tion will  be  brought  about  by  a  clearer  knowledge  of  the 
great  physiological  and  social  and  economic  laws  of  the 
world — that  is  to  say,  that  the  multitudes  for  whom 
Christian  evidences  are  too  hard  a  study  shall  be  deli- 
vered from  sin  by  the  study  of  physiology,  and  social 
science,  and  political  econony.    Or  he  may  tell  you  that 
you  may  get  rid  of  the  sin  that  is  in  your  hearts  by  culti- 
vating your  intellects — that  when  a  man  is  tempted  to 
steal,  for  instance,  he  will  be  kept  from  stealing  when  he 
bas  learnt  that  s-t-e-a-1  spells  steal ;  or  that  when  a  man 
is  tempted  to  shed  the  life-blood  of  his  fellow-man,  it  will 
be  a  great  help  to  him  against  the  temptation,  if  he 
understand  the  anatomy  of  the  body  which  he  is  tempted 
to  slay.    In  this  or  in  any  other  way  our  new  teachers 
may  deal  with  these  ideas  of  sin  and  salvation ;  but  deal 
with  them  in  some  way  or  other  they  must.  Something 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


139 


they  must  have  to  say  to  us  ahout  that  fact  in  our  nature, 
which  we  call  sin,  something  about  the  desire  of  our 
nature  for  what  we  call  salvation  ;  or  they  have  no  con- 
cern with  us  nor  we  with  them. 

And  now  we  proceed  to  cite  another  known  fact.  There 
exists  in  this  world  a  great  society  called  the  Church  of 
Christ,  the  very  object  of  which  is  to  save  men  from  sin. 
It  professes  to  exist  for  this  and  for  nothing  else — to  give 
men,  through  Christ,  a  new  life  by  which  they  should  be 
saved  from  sin.  Does  it  do  this  ?  If  it  does,  mark  what 
follows.  If  you  find  that  in  this  Church  of  Christ  you 
are  saved  from  sin  by  believing  in  Christ,  then  you  have 
a  right  to  turn  back  to  the  life  of  Him,  faith  in  whom  you 
believe  has  saved  you  from  sin,  and  to  say,  "  I  find  in  my 
life  to-day  certain  facts,  and  I  find  in  the  life  of  One  who 
lived  eighteen  hundred  years  ago  a  promise  that,  if  I  be- 
lieved in  Him,  those  facts  should  reveal  themselves  in  my 
life.  Now  then  how  am  I  to  account  fur  the  fact  that 
the  facts  of  to-day  are  those  so  distinctly  foretold  and 
promised  in  that  life  of  eighteen  hundred  years  ago  ? 
What  strange  mystery  is  it  that  joins  so  marvellously  my 
life  with  His  life — the  facts  in  my  life  with  the  promise 
of  those  facts  in  His  ?  What  is  it  that  makes  Him  live 
in  me  eighteen  hundred  years  and  more  after  His  death?" 
When  you  have  asked  yourself  this  question,  then  you 
are  prepared  to  study  those  historical  evidences,  those 
proofs  from  miracles  and  prophecy  which  give  you  the 
answer — ay,  the  only  sufficient  answer,  to  that  question. 
So  you  see,  those  of  you  who  are  ordinary  and  simple 
men,  you  have  "  not  to  wade  through  great  masses  of 
historical  evidence "  to  find  your  Saviour ;  you  see  you 
can  find  Him  present  here.  You  are  not  called  on  to 
begin  by  imagining  yourself  not  a  Christian,  and  then 
arguing  yourself  into  Christianity  ;  but  you  are  entitled 


140         THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


to  say,  "I  am  a  Christian;  I  have  very  good  and  satis- 
factory reasons  for  being  a  Christian,  and  before  you  ask 
me  to  give  up  my  Christianity,  give  me  some  reason  why 
I  should  do  so ;  disprove  the  reasons  I  allege  for  what  I 
am  and  what  I  feel ;  show  me  that  all  this  is  a  delusion 
and  a  mistake  :  then  I  am  ready  to  give  up  my  Christian 
ideas  at  your  bidding.  But  meanwhile  I  am  not  much 
disposed  to  rise  up  and  go  out  of  my  Father's  home,  where 
I  have  been  sheltered  and  fed,  at  the  bidding  of  any  pro- 
digal who  has  gone  into  a  far  country,  and  who  crie&  to 
me  to  come  and  share  his  banquet,  which  may  prove  after 
all  to  be  one  of  husks." 

But  is  there  such  a  fact  to  be  seen  within  the  Christian 
Church  as  salvation  from  sin  ?  I  trust  that  there  are 
those  in  this  congregation,  who  know  this  from  their  own 
experience.  I  trust  there  are  those  who  can  say,  "  I  know 
that  I  have  been  a  sinner — a  helpless  captive  to  vice  and 
sin — and  I  can  remember  when  I  went  to  Jesus  Christ, 
and  upon  my  knees  asked  Him  to  save  me  from  my  sin, 
and  He  did  save  me.  I  can  remember  when  I  rose  from 
my  knees  a  new  man.  I  can  remember  when  I  went  out 
into  the  world  again  in  all  the  strength  and  vigour  of  a 
new  life  that  I  never  had  before." 

The  man  who  knows  this  has  a  fact  in  his  own  experi- 
ence that  no  one  can  take  from  him ;  and  that  man  is  not 
likely  to  give  up  his  faith  at  the  sudden  call  of  an  un- 
believer ;  for  you  may  be  sure  that  no  man  will  ever  lightly 
change  his  religion  whose  religion  has  ever  changed  him. 
But,  of  course,  this  change  in  a  man's  own  soul,  though  a 
great  help  to  his  faith,  is  no  demonstration  to  those  who 
have  never  experienced  it. 

Then  the  next  question  is — Is  there  such  a  thing  out- 
side of  ourselves,  visible  to  us  and  to  all  men,  as  salvation 
from  sin  ?    Is  there  not  ?    Is  there  anyone  who  knows 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT.  141 


anything  of  the  working  of  Christ's  Church  now,  or  in 
the  past,  who  will  dare  to  say  that  it  has  no  instance  to 
show  of  the  salvation  of  men  from  their  sins  ?  There  is 
not  one  in  this  town  of  Norwich  who  does  not  know  well 
that  from  time  to  time  there  is  that  to  be  seen  within  the 
limits  of  the  Christian  Church,  which  is  not  to  be  seen 
outside  it  :  sinners,  men  of  vice,  men  of  crime,  outcasts, 
the  very  refuse  of  society, — whom  your  philosophers  shake 
their  heads  over,  and  reckon  among  the  anomalies  of 
humanity,  and  whom  your  moralists  grieve  over  but  can- 
not help — reclaimed  from  their  sins,  delivered  from  their 
vices,  made  new  men.  They  are  often  made  so  suddenly, 
and  yet  they  are  made  so  completely.  They  are  to  be 
seen  repentant  with  very  tears  of  blood  over  sins,  that  but 
an  hour  before  they  gloried  in.  They  are  to  be  seen 
"  clothed  and  in  their  right  mind,  sitting  at  the  feet  of 
Jesus."  I  say  that  these  are  facts  just  as  certain  as  it  is 
a  fact  that  I  am  now  here  standing  to  preach  to  you. 
There  is  not  a  city  missionary,  there  is  not  a  Scripture 
reader,  there  is  not  a  clergyman — ay,  there  is  not  an 
honest  and  truthful  man  who  knows  anything  of  the 
working  of  Christianity,  who  cannot  testify,  if  he  will,  to 
the  existence  of  this  class  of  facts  within  the  limits  of  the 
Christian  Church. 

And  then,  we  know  further  that  this  Christian  life  is 
to  be  found  essentially  the  same  under  the  most  diverse 
circumstances  of  time,  and  country,  and  race.  High  and 
low,  rich  and  poor,  learned  and  ignorant,  civilised  and 
savage,  all  are  found  equally  capable  of  manifesting  it  in 
its  highest  forms.  The  most  inferior  and  despised  races  of 
mankind  can  show  themselves,  in  this  respect  at  least,  the 
equals  of  the  savants,  who  are  learnedly  demonstrating 
them  to  be  but  slightly  improved  apes.  Nay,  what  is 
perhaps  stranger  still,  it  is  to  be  found  alike  amongst  all 


142  THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


those  varieties  of  Christian  sects  who,  widely  as  they  differ 
on  other  points  of  belief,  agree  in  believing  in  Christ. 
However  much  these  may  dispute  on  other  matters,  they 
are  yet  found  to  be  one  in  their  common  experience  of  the 
inner  Christian  life.  There  are  those  in  every  Christian 
community  who  can  and  do  unite  in  saying  this — "  We 
know  that  we  are  saved  from  the  power  of  sin  by  faith  in 
Jesus  Christ." 

Now  if  these  facts  of  the  Christian  life  exist  among  us, 
we  have  the  right  to  ask,  How  came  they  to  exist  ?  We 
Christians  have  our  own  way  of  accounting  for  them ; 
but  those  who  utterly  reject  our  theory  of  their  origin 
may  fairly  be  asked  to  do  one  of  two  things — to  imitate 
them,  or  to  account  for  them.  If  those  who  are  not  Chris- 
tians can  do  all  that  Christianity  does  in  the  way  of  saving 
men  from  sin,  then  they  will  have  shown  that  we  are 
wrong  in  saying  that  this  power  to  save,  whatever  be  its 
origin,  is  peculiar  to  Christianity. 

Or,  if  without  doing  this  much  they  can  account  for  the 
power  of  Christianity  on  purely  natural  grounds,  they  will 
have  shown  that,  even  granting  this  power  to  be  exclu- 
sively Christian,  we  are  wrong  in  asserting  it  to  be  super- 
natural. 

We  say  then  to  all  those  who,  rejecting  Christianity, 
still  profess  to  have  some  religious  belief,  If  you 
would  try  this  question  out  with  us,  set  your  faith  at 
work  alongside  of  ours — at  that  work,  which  we  all  agree 
religion  has  to  do — the  saving  of  men  from  sin — and  see 
which  does  it  best.  Nothing  is  easier  than  to  sit  in  your 
studies  with  the  model  of  our  religion  before  you,  compar- 
ing it  with  your  improvements  of  it,  and  telling  us  that 
ours  is  antiquated  and  worn  out,  and  yours  the  only  true 
one.  Our  answer  is — Rise  up  and  try.  Religions,  like 
constitutions,  may  be  drawn  up  on  paper  in  the  study  by 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


143 


the  score  ;  they  must  be  tested  in  the  street.  Try  then  in 
this  way  your  new  and  improved  religion.  The  trial  at 
least  is  easy.  The  next  street  that  you  turn  into  will  very 
likely  furnish  us  with  a  sufficient  test.  Here  comes  one 
who  needs  some  help  to  save  her  from  the  ruin  that  seems 
to  have  marked  her  for  its  prey.  Shame  and  misery,  want 
and  the  fear  of  want,  and  late  remorse  and  grim  despair, 
have  done  their  work  on  her,  and  left  their  marks  upon  a 
face,  whence  sin  has  swept  with  its  effacing  fingers  every 
trace  of  the  beauty  of  womanhood  and  the  modest  come- 
liness of  innocence.  Dark  thoughts  are  busy  at  her  heart, 
mingling  the  memories  of  the  lost  past  and  the  agony 
of  the  present  and  the  dread  of  the  future,  all  in  one 
wild,  weary  wish  for  the  rest  and  refuge  of  the  grave. 
What  shall  we  say  to  her  ?  We  may  not  speak  to  her  of 
Him  who  suffered  the  woman  that  was  a  sinner  to  wash 
His  feet  with  her  tears — that  is  a  Christian  myth  ;  nor 
tell  her  that  His  blood  cleanseth  from  all  sin — that  is  a 
Jewish  dogma  repugnant  to  our  better  moral  sense.  But 
you  may  open  your  Emerson  and  read  her  the  exhortation 
that  bids  her  say — "  I  love  the  Right.  Truth  is  beautiful 
within  and  without  for  evermore.  Virtue,  I  am  thine  : 
save  me,  use  me  :  thee  will  I  serve  day  and  night,  in  great 
and  small,  that  I  may  be — not  virtuous,  but  Virtue !  " 
And  you  may  cheer  her  sad  heart  by  assuring  her  that 
when  she  "  attains  to  say  this,"  then  will  "  the  end  of  her 
creation  be  answered,  and  God  will  be  well  pleased  !  " 
And  doubtless  she  will  thank  you  for  this,  and  will  tell 
you  that  is  a  great  help  to  aid  her  to  struggle  against  sin, 
shame,  and  misery,  and  the  madness  of  her  despair.  Try 
it.  We  challenge  you  teachers  of  the  new  religion  to  try 
your  faith.  We  have  tried  ours.  There  have  been  those 
who  have  gone  into  the  streets  of  our  great  cities  and  said 
to  such  a  one — "  You  are  an  outcast,  you  are  lost,  and 


144 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIKIT. 


that  is  just  the  very  reason  the  Son  of  God  came  from 
Heaven  to  save  you.  Christ  our  Saviour  has  come  to  seek 
and  to  save  the  lost."  And  somehow  this  gospel  does  save 
these  outcasts.  Will  you  try  .yours  instead,  and  tell  us 
what  it  has  done  ?  And  when  you  have  saved  one  soul  by 
your  way,  then  it  will  be  time  for  us  to  begin  to  think  of 
changing  ours. 

Or  will  you  try  the  efficacy  of  your  new  remedy  for  sin 
upon  even  a  worse  and  more  hopeless  case  ?  "Will  you  try 
it  upon  him  who  has  made  that  poor  lost  one  what  she  is 
— upon  the  accomplished,  polished  gentleman,  let  us  sup- 
pose, whom  education  and  civilisation  have  somehow  failed 
to  cure  of  selfish  and  cruel  lusts  ?  "Will  you  address  him 
in  another  exhortation  from  the  same  gospel,  and  say — 
Oh,  sinful  and  selfish  man,  do  you  not  know  "  that  the 
law  of  gravitation  is  identical  with  purity  of  heart "  ? 
Listen  to  me  while  I  tell  you  "  that  duty  is  one  thing  with 
science,  with  beauty,  and  with  joy."  Try  it!  and  come 
and  tell  us  what  the  result  has  been.  And  we  will  tell  you 
meanwhile  of  those  like  him,  who  have  been  brought  to 
kneel  in  bitter  penitence  before  a  Cross,  that  tells  of 
unselfish,  of  self-sacrificing  love  ! 

Or  perhaps  you  might  prefer  to  deal  with  the  sins  and 
sorrows  of  the  world  in  the  spirit  of  another  of  these  new 
gospels.  Listen  to  it.  "  Man  must  be  taught,  first,  all 
those  physical  laws  upon  which  God  has  made  health  to 
depend ;  secondly,  all  those  moral  laws  on  which  He  has 
made  happiness  to  depend  ;  thirdly,  all  those  intellectual 
laws  upon  which  He  has  made  knowledge  to  depend  ; 
fourthly,  all  those  social  and  political  laws  upon  which  He 
has  made  national  prosperity  and  advancement  to  depend  ; 
and  lastly,  all  those  economic  laws  on  which  He  has  made 
wealth  to  depend.  A  true  comprehension  of  all  these 
and  of  their  nature  " — a  very  easy  thing  of  course,  for  a 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIEIT.  145 


plain,  poor  man  to  learn — "  will  ultimately  rescue  man- 
kind from  all  their  vices,  and  from  nearly  all  their  suffer- 
ing, save  casualties  and  sorrows."  And  you  will  wait  for 
the  distant  accomplishment  of  this  new  gospel ;  and  in 
the  meanwhile  our  gospel  will  continue  to  save  not  a 
few  of  those  who  will  have  died  before  yours  comes  into 
operation. 

Yes,  we  do  believe  that  there  is  a  salvation  from  sin 
within  the  limits  of  this  despised  superstition  of  Chris- 
tianity that  is  not  to  be  found  outside  of  it.  But  if  those 
who  deny  the  supernatural  origin  of  Christianity  cannot 
imitate  the  facts  of  the  Christian  life,  can  they  account 
for  them  ?  They  try  at  least  to  do  so.  What  most  of 
them  say  is  to  this  effect.  Granting  the  existence  of 
these  facts,  they  can  be  easily  shown  to  have  had  a 
perfectly  natural  origin.  Some  eighteen  centuries  ago,  a 
Jewish  peasant  preached  certain  religious  ideas  of  great 
power  and  beauty,  though  not  without  some  mixture  of 
error  and  superstition,  and  enforced  these  by  a  very  pure 
and  noble  life ;  which  was  prematurely  terminated  by  a 
cruel  death  at  the  hands  of  his  countrymen.  The  power 
of  his  ideas  and  of  his  example  together  effected  that 
great  religious  movement  which  bears  his  name,  and  still 
produces  that  spiritual  life  which  manifests  itself  wherever 
his  name  is  believed  in. 

Now  to  this  theory  there  are  some  weighty  objections. 
In  the  first  place,  it  is  directly  opposed  to  the  universal 
testimony  of  the  Christian  Church.  The  traditional  belief 
of  any  race  or  community,  as  to  its  own  origin,  is  certainly 
entitled  to  some  respect,  especially  when  that  belief  is 
uniform  and  consistent.  Now  the  uniform  and  consistent 
testimony  of  all  true  Christians  in  every  age  is  that  the 
cause  of  what  they  call  their  new  life  has  not  been  their 
study  of  the  moral  teaching  or  the  example  of  Jesus ;  but 

r- 


146 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


that  it  has  been  their  believing  in  Him  as  their  Saviour 
and  Redeemer.  They  date  the  power  of  this  life  in  them 
— not  from  the  time  when  they  first  admired  Jesus  of 
Nazareth,  but  from  the  time  when  they  first  began  in 
earnest  to  pray  to  Jesus  Christ  the  Son  of  God. 

It  is  not  a  philosophical  mode  of  treating  this  question 
to  ignore  this  universal  tradition  of  Christendom,  or  to 
pronounce  it,  off-hand,  to  be  a  strange  mistake.  The 
Christian  consciousness  of  eighteen  centuries  is  not  to  be 
so  lightly  disposed  of.  The  singular  language  which 
Christians  use  respecting  the  nature  and  origin  of  their 
Christian  life  is  as  remarkable  and  as  new  a  fact  as  that 
life  itself ;  and  both  together  seem  at  least  to  point  as 
their  cause  to  some  fact  as  new  and  as  peculiar  in  the  life 
of  its  Founder  ; — both  force  upon  us  the  question,  "  What 
think  ye  of  Christ  ?  " 

In  the  next  place  this  theory  is  contradicted  by  the 
known  facts  in  the  history  of  the  planting  of  Christianity. 
The  Apostles,  as  I  have  before  pointed  out  to  you,  did 
not  go  about  repeating  the  words  of  Christ ;  or  telling  at 
any  length  the  details  of  His  life  ;  they  preach  invariably 
— not  the  words  or  the  life  of  Christ ;  but  His  death  and 
His  resurrection.  They  do  not  say  to  their  hearers, 
Come,  hear  us  repeat  to  you  the  discourses  of  Jesus  the 
great  Prophet  of  Nazareth.  Listen  to  this  noble  passage 
from  His  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  or  this  exquisite  parable 
of  the  Prodigal  Son,  or  observe  this  touching  instance  of 
His  goodness  ;  but  they  say,  Listen  to  us,  as  we  tell  you 
how  "  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  approved  of  God  by  signs  and 
wonders,  crucified  by  wicked  hands,  was  raised  from  the 
dead  and  exalted  to  Heaven  to  be  a  Prince  and  a  Saviour, 
to  give  repentance  and  remission  of  sins."  And  thou- 
sands must  have  been  converted  by  these  teachings,  and 
exhibited  the  Christian  life  in  all  its  beauty,  who  could 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT.  147 


have  known  little,  if  anything,  of  the  words  of  Jesus.  It 
was  not  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  that  pricked  the  hearts 
of  the  three  thousand  on  the  day  of  Pentecost,  and  made 
them  cry  out,  "  "What  shall  we  do  ?  "  It  was  not  the 
parable  of  the  Good  Samaritan  that  turned  the  licentious 
idolaters  of  Rome  and  Corinth  and  Ephesus  into  Christian 
Saints.  It  was,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  just  those  dogmas 
concerning  the  efficacy  of  Christ's  death  and  resurrection, 
which  we  are  told  are  hindering  all  true  life  and  progress 
now.  Surely  on  this  theory  of  a  world  regenerated  by 
the  words  and  life  of  Jesus,  in  spite  of  certain  noxious 
superstitions  about  His  person,  it  is  a  very  strange  fact 
that  this  regeneration  should  have  been  effected,  in  the 
first  instance  at  least,  without  the  help  of  His  words  or 
His  example,  and  by  means  apparently  of  those  very 
superstitions  and  nothing  else. 

But  there  is  another  difficulty  in  the  way  of  this  theory. 
We  have  to  ask — If  the  teaching  of  Jesus  Christ,  merely 
in  a  natural  way,  wrought  this  life,  what  were  those 
teachings,  what  were  those  new  and  sublime  ideas  of  His 
that  brought  this  new  life  into  the  world  ?  It  is  clear 
they  cannot  merely  have  been  His  moral  precepts,  because 
we  may  take  it  for  certain  that  no  precepts,  no  law  of  any 
kind,  ever  yet  regenerated  a  human  soul.  Law  tells  us 
what  we  ought  to  be,  but  law  never  yet  gave  man  the 
power  of  being  what  he  knows  he  ought  to  be.  The  world 
before  Christ  came  had  more  moral  laws  than  it  could 
obey.  The  great  law — "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy 
God  with  all  thy  heart  and  with  all  thy  strength,  and 
thy  neighbour  as  thyself" — was  well  known  before  He 
came ;  what  men  needed  was  power  to  obey  it.  They 
needed  some  new  reason  to  move  them  to  love  God  and 
their  fellow-men.  Doctrine  of  some  kind  or  other  must 
always  accompany  precept  to   give  it  motive  power 


148  THE  DEMONSTRATION  OE  THE  SPIRIT. 

amongst  men.  Whoever  would  deeply  stir  the  tides  of 
the  human  heart  must  not  merely  announce  a  law,  he 
must  preach  an  idea.  "We  ask  then,  again,  what  were 
these  religious  ideas  of  Jesus  that  so  deeply  stirred  the 
heart  of  humanity  ?  Clearly  they  could  not  have  been 
any  of  those  ideas,  which  our  "modern  reason"  and 
"  higher  consciousness "  have  discovered  to  be  not  only 
false  but  pernicious.  It  could  only  have  been  the  pure 
truth  in  Christ's  teachings,  and  not  any  of  His  errors,  that 
gave  light  and  life  to  men.  Hence  it  is  clear  that  we 
must  leave  out  of  our  Lord's  teaching  all  that  his  critics 
regard  as  untrue — all  assertions  of  His  divinity  ;  all 
teaching,  for  instance,  of  sacrifice  and  atonement ;  of  a 
hell,  of  a  personal  evil  spirit,  or  of  the  second  coming  of 
Christ  to  judge  the  world.  Well,  if  we  leave  this  all  out, 
what  remains  of  the  teaching  of  Jesus  ?  We  are  told 
that  it  was  His  sublime  Deism — His  teaching  of  a  simpler 
and  more  attractive  religion.  Here  is  the  account  of  His 
success  by  M.  Renan,  the  author  of  the  "  Life  of  Christ  "  : 
"  It  was  the  new  idea  of  a  worship  founded  on  purity  of 
heart  and  human  fraternity.  It  was  the  charm  of  a  religion 
freed  from  all  external  forms,  that  made  the  attraction  of 
Christianity  for  all  nobler  souls."  You  observe,  "for  all 
nobler  souls."  There  is  nothing  said  about  the  degraded 
and  outcast ;  nothing  about  the  publican  and  the  harlot. 
This  is  a  gospel  only  for  nobler  souls  !  Let  us  take  it  as 
it  stands — this  "  new  idea  of  worship  founded  upon  purity 
of  heart,"  and  "  the  charm  of  a  religion  freed  from  all 
external  forms."  Now,  I  ask  what  was  it,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  that  the  Apostles  taught  ?  Most  certainly  it  was  not 
a  religion  freed  from  external  form,  nor  yet  a  religion 
without  dogma.  They  taught  dogma  in  its  most  intense 
and  dogmatic  form.  They  preached  Atonement,  Sacrifice, 
Regeneration,  Faith,  Sanctification.     They  insisted  on 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT.  149 


dogmatic  facts,  such  as  the  Incarnation,  the  Resurrection, 
the  Ascension,  the  Coming  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  They 
baptized  their  converts  into  one  most  mysterious  dogma, 
and  commanded  them  to  show  forth  another,  only  less 
mysterious,  in  the  other  great  rite  of  their  religion.  And 
yet  we  are  told  that  the  great  secret  of  the  success  of 
Christianity  was  its  freedom  from  form  and  dogma  !  That 
is  to  say,  we  are  asked  to  believe  that  Jesus  Christ  by 
preaching  a  religion  free  from  form  and  dogma,  induced 
a  number  of  Jews,  brought  up  in  the  belief  of  dogmas 
and  observance  of  forms,  to  forsake  their  religion  and 
adopt  His.  And  then,  that  no  sooner  have  they  adopted 
this  undogmatic  and  informal  religion  than  they  go  out  and 
convert  the  world  by  preaching  dogmas  and  by  imposing 
forms !  They  forsake  Moses,  for  instance,  because  he 
taught  them  that  God  required  to  be  propitiated  by  blood- 
shedding,  and  straightway  they  preach  the  blood  of  Christ 
as  the  propitiation  for  sin.  They  reject  the  idea  of  expia- 
tion by  animal  sacrifices,  and  they  forthwith  proclaim  the 
seemingly  far  grosser  and  more  shocking  idea  of  expiation 
by  human  sacrifice.  They  cease  to  be  Jews,  because 
Christ  has  convinced  them  that  repentance  towards  God 
is  all  that  sinners  need  to  obtain  His  favour  ;  and  they 
persuade  others  to  become  Christians,  because  repentance 
is  not  sufficient  without  "faith  in  Christ." 

Did  ever  anyone  hear  of  a  theory  so  absurd  and  self- 
contradicting  as  this  ?  A  religious  reformer  begins  his 
reformation  by  preaching  a  new  idea  so  grand  and  striking 
that  it  rapidly  gains  him  numerous  converts,  and  these 
immediately  set  about  proclaiming — not  that  idea  to  which 
they  were  converted,  but  the  very  ideas  they  were  con- 
verted from  !  Luther  brought  about  the  Reformation 
by  teaching  the  supremacy  of  the  Scriptures,  and  the 
sufficiency  of  private  judgment.    Would  you  believe,  if 


150 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


you  were  asked  to  believe  it,  that  Luther  having  done 
this,  and  this  being  the  great  secret  of  his  success,  it  was, 
nevertheless,  a  fact  that  every  one  of  Luther's  followers 
preached  the  insufficiency  of  the  Scriptures  and  the  sin 
and  folly  of  private  judgment ;  and  that  by  doing  this 
they  converted  the  world  largely  to  Protestantism,  and 
that  this  fully  accounts  for  the  success  of  Protestantism  ? 
And  yet  is  this  one  whit  more  absurd  than  the  idea  of 
Jesus  Christ  successfully  assailing  Judaism  by  preaching 
pure  and  simple  Deism,  and  His  converts  immediately 
completing  His  work  by  preaching  the  central  error  both 
of  Judaism  and  Paganism  ? 

But  there  is  yet  another  difficulty  in  the  way  of  the 
theory,  that  it  was  the  novelty  and  the  simplicity  of 
Christ's  pure  Deism,  to  which  Christianity  owes  its 
success.  And  it  is  this — that  such  teaching  was  not  new. 
So  at  least  say  the  very  men  who,  when  it  suits  their  pur- 
pose, insist  upon  its  striking  and  novel  character.  For 
when  we  Christians  point  to  the  beauty  and  the  grandeur 
of  Christ's  religious  and  moral  ideas  as  proving  Him 
more  than  man,  these  very  men  turn  round  and  tell  us  we 
are  quite  mistaken.  There  is  nothing  after  all  so  new  or 
so  striking  in  the  religious  teaching  of  Jesus.  The  ideas 
of  the  unity  of  God,  of  His  Fatherhood,  of  the  efficacy  of 
repentance,  of  the  insufficiency  of  sacrifices,  of  the  worth- 
lessness  of  ceremonies  and  forms  without  purity  of  heart 
— all  these  had  been  proclaimed,  we  are  reminded,  long 
before  by  the  Jewish  Prophets.  They  had  told  the  Jews 
that  "the  Lord  their  God  was  one  God,"  that  "  His  tender 
mercies  were  over  all  His  works  ; "  that  He  "  pitied  them 
even  as  a  father  pitieth  his  children  ;  "  that  He  needeth  not 
"  to  eat  the  flesh  of  bulls  and  drink  the  blood  of  goats  ; " 
that  to  obey  Him  was  "better  than  sacrifice,  and  to 
hearken  than  the  fat  of  rams  ;  "  that  if  "  the  wicked  man 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT.  151 


forsook  his  way  and  returned  unto  Him,  He  would  have 
mercy  upon  him  and  abundantly  pardon."  And  not  the' 
Prophets  only,  but  the  later  Jewish  writers,  Simeon  the 
Just,  and  Jesus  son  of  Sirach,  and  Philo,  and  many  another 
writer  have  said  tbings  quite  as  striking,  and  nearly 
identical  indeed  with  those  that  Jesus  Cbrist  has  said. 
Nay,  even  the  heathen  poets  and  sages  are  many  of  them 
His  equals.  Tbe  Orphic  Hymns  and  the  Vedas,  for 
instance,  contain  thoughts  of  God  quite  as  sublime  as 
anything  He  ever  said. 

Be  it  so.  Here  tben  arises  our  difficulty.  How  comes 
it  to  pass  that  not  one  of  these  elder  Prophets,  not  one  of 
these  sublimer  sages,  ever  effected  by  their  ideas  what  He 
effected  by  His  ?  "What  was  there  in  the  teaching  of 
Jesus  that  was  wanting,  it  seems,  in  the  teaching  of 
Simeon  the  Just,  and  Jesus  the  son  of  Sirach,  and  Philo 
and  the  rest  of  them  ?  What  is  tbe  secret  of  the  power, 
which  this  new  Teacber  of  old  truths  and  trite  sayings 
undoubtedly  exercised  over  tbe  minds  of  men  ?  M.  Penan, 
in  dire  distress  for  an  answer  to  this  question,  assures  us 
that  it  was  partly  due  at  least  to  the  "  charm  of  his 
exquisite  manner  !  "  Only  think  of  this  !  tbe  exquisite 
charm  of  Christ's  manners  converted  the  world  ;  converted, 
that  is,  the  thousands  who  had  never  seen  His  face  nor 
heard  a  word  from  His  lips  !  Tbe  graces  of  his  literary 
style  won  the  Greek  and  the  Roman  to  worship  a  crucified 
J ew,  and  to  be  willing  themselves  to  be  crucified  rather 
than  forswear  their  faith  in  Him  !  But  the  example  of 
Christ,  we  are  told,  tbe  beauty  of  His  life — this  must 
alone  have  sufficed  to  give  currency  to  His  ideas,  and 
these  ideas  once  spread  abroad  worked  naturally  tbe 
great  moral  results  of  Christianity.  But  apart  from  the 
question  whether  the  life  of  Christ,  considered  as  that  of 
mere  man,  is  an  example  in  all  respects  to  be  followed — 


152 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


whether  He  did  not  say  and  do  many  things  that  none  of 
*His  followers  ever  dared  or  ought  to  say  or  do  ;  and  apart,, 
too,  from  the  question  whether  the  holiness  of  any  teacher 
really  does  help  much  the  general  acceptance  of  His 
teaching — whether  we  may  not  and  do  not  very  often 
reject  the  teaching  of  those  whom  we  acknowledge  to  be 
excellent  men — the  simple  fact  is,  that,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  large  multitudes  of  converts  to  Christianity, 
and  those  its  earliest  and  best,  must  necessarily  have  been 
ignorant  of  the  details  of  His  life  ;  must  have  believed  on 
Him  before  they  knew  of  these  details ;  the  doctrines  of 
Christianity  introducing  them  to  the  example  of  Christ, 
and  not  His  life  introducing  them  to  His  doctrines. 

And  now  that  I  have  shown  you  the  utter  failure  of  one 
of  the  most  recent  and  most  ingenious  attempts  to  account 
naturallv  for  the  facts  of  the  Christian  life,  let  me  remind 
you  once  more  that  we  do  not  claim  that  the  failure  of 
this  or  any  other  theory  of  the  kind  to  account  for  these 
facts  naturally,  necessarily  demonstrates  their  origin  to  be 
supernatural.  We  admit  that  what  is  unaccountable  is- 
not  therefore  supernatural ;  but  what  we  contend  is,  that 
this  impossibility  of  satisfactorily  accounting  for  these 
facts  on  the  theory  of  their  merely  natural  origin  makes 
our  theory  of  their  supernatural  origin  more  probable  and 
reasonable.  "We  claim  to  have  shown  you  some  of  the 
difficulties  that  lie  in  the  way  of  rejecting  Christianity,, 
and  that  these  may,  after  all,  be  as  great  as,  nay,  greater 
than  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  accepting  it ;  that  the 
improbabilities  of  unbelief  may  exceed  the  improbabilities 
of  belief. 

The  question  which  we  have  put  before  you  to-night  is- 
really  this,  "Which  of  the  two  theories  of  the  origin  of 
Christianity — the  natural  or  the  supernatural — seems  most 
probable,  taking  into  account  all  the  facts  of  the  case  ? 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


153 


"Which,  for  instance,  seems  most  easy  of  belief — such  an 
account  of  Christianity  as  M.  Renan's,  or  this — "  There 
is  now  to  be  seen  in  the  world  a  mighty  power  of 
spiritual  life,  recovering  the  lost,  reclaiming  the  outcast, 
regenerating,  sanctifying  human  souls,  as  no  other  known 
influence  does,  or  ever  did.  It  is  to  be  found  in  its  highest 
development  only  within  the  limits  of  the  Christian  Church. 
This  life  was  announced  as  His  gift  to  men,  by  One  who 
said  He  came  into  the  world  to  die  and  rise  again,  that  he 
might  bestow  it  on  those  who  believed  on  Him.  He  pro- 
mised, during  his  lifetime,  that,  after  His  resurrection  and 
ascension  into  Heaven,  He  would  send  down  the  Spirit  of 
God,  who  should  work  in  the  hearts  of  these  believers 
those  same  mighty  works  which  we  see.  And  He  has  done 
what  He  promised.  His  name — through  faith  in  His 
name — gives  soundness  to  these  men  in  the  presence  of 
us  all." 

Now,  we  ask,  which  of  these  two  theories  is,  after  all, 
the  most  reasonable  ;  which  best  explains  and  harmonises 
all  these  facts  of  the  case  ? 

If,  indeed,  the  supernatural  be,  as  some  men  tell  us, 
impossible  ;  if  it  be  utterly  absurd  to  suppose,  either  that 
there  is  a  personal  God,  or  that  He  can  interfere  with  the 
order  of  the  world  which  He  has  made,  then  of  course  we 
must  give  up  Christianity,  and  a  good  deal  more  besides ; 
only  we  should  like  to  have  this  proved  first.  But  if  there 
be  no  such  violent  absurdity  or  a  priori  impossibility  in 
the  idea  of  the  Divine  and  Supernatural,  then  why,  I  ask, 
are  we  to  be  called  on  so  peremptorily  to  give  up  our 
theory  of  a  supernatural  origin  for  Christianity,  and  accept 
that  other,  with  all  its  difficulties  and  improbabilities  ?  Is 
it,  after  all,  so  very  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  wonderful 
and  exceptional  facts  should  have  a  wonderful  and  excep- 
tional cause  ?    And  do  not  these  facts  and  experiences  of 


154         THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


the  Christian  life  go  far  to  make  credible,  and  even  pro- 
bable, those  other  alleged  wonderful  facts  of  that  other 
life  eighteen  hundred  years  ago  ?  All  that  record  of  the 
supernatural ;  all  that  collection  of  prophecies  fulfilled,  and 
miracles  wrought ;  all  that  story  of  an  incarnation,  and  a 
resurrection  and  ascension,  seem  to  us  the  sufficient  founda- 
tion on  which  was  to  be  raised  the  superstructure  of  those 
other  supernatural  facts  in  the  world's  history  ever  since. 
They  record  the  entrance  into  the  world  of  a  power,  mighty 
enough  to  work  the  salvation  of  human  souls  by  regenera- 
tion and  conversion  to  God.  Surely  these  were  at  least 
an  end  worthy  of  such  means ;  an  object  for  which — if 
for  any — supernatural  interference  might  be  needed  and 
welcomed. 

Beyond  this  point  I  do  not  claim  to  press  this  argu- 
ment with  those  who  differ  from  us.  The  demonstration 
of  the  Spirit,  in  its  fullest  sense,  is  for  those,  and  for  those 
only,  who  believe.  We  who  have  tried  God's  remedy  for 
sin  know,  and  have  the  right  to  claim  to  know,  more  about 
its  efficacy  than  those  who  reject  it.  He  who  has  experi- 
enced that  change  of  heart  and  life  which  Christ  promises 
to  those  who  believe  in  Him,  has  an  evidence  within  him 
which  he  cannot  give  to  another,  but  which  none  other 
can  take  from  him.  He  who  sees  how  his  experience 
links  itself  with  that  of  all  living  Christian  saints — of  all 
that  ever  have  lived — and  with  that  Divine  life  from 
which  it  first  sprung,  he  has  all  the  demonstration  of 
Christianit}'  that  is  possible  on  this  side  of  the  grave  and 
of  Heaven  ;  but  it  is  a  demonstration  for  himself  and  not 
for  another. 

One  word  more.  I  have  been  speaking  of  that  demon- 
stration of  the  Spirit  that  is  found  in  the  heart  and  soul  of 
regenerated  and  saved  man.  I  have  told  you  that  after 
all  this  is  the  last  and  crowning  proof  of  the  divine  might 


THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT.  155 


of  our  religion.  But  if  it  be  so,  then  remember  that  the 
most  dangerous  disproof  of  the  Christian  religion  would 
be  the  want  of  those  signs  and  tokens  within  the  Christian 
Church.  Yes,  Christianity  may  survive — ay,  and  will 
survive — all  assaults  upon  its  historical  evidences,  all 
assaults  upon  its  supernatural  theory  ;  but  there  is  one 
thing,  and  one  thing  only,  which  Christianity  could  not 
survive,  and  that  would  be  the  universal  ungodliness  of 
Christian  men.  He  who  founded  it  has  said  that  if  the 
salt  which  is  to  be  the  salt  of  the  earth — His  own  Divine 
Kingdom  in  the  world — loses  its  savour,  it  becomes  good 
for  nothing,  and  men  cast  it  out.  For  there  is  nothing  so 
odious  and  so  dangerous  as  the  corpse  of  a  dead  religion. 
Men  bury  it  out  of  their  sight,  lest  it  infect  them  with  a 
plague.  Our  Lord  has  said — and  never  did  He  say  a 
truer  word  of  prophecy — that  in  the  hour  the  salt  has  lost 
its  spiritual  savour  it  perishes.  And  if  all  Christendom 
should  ever  become  a  multitude  of  merely  professing 
Christians  without  spiritual  life,  Christianity  would  then 
die,  and  it  would  be  time  to  bury  it  out  of  the  sight  of 
men.  But  mark  this — if  it  were  so,  in  the  very  hour  of 
its  death,  with  its  last  expiring  breath,  it  would  be  giving 
evidence  of  the  Divine  foresight  of  Him  who  founded  it ; 
its  very  death  in  those  circumstances  would  be  a  fulfil- 
ment of  the  prophecy  of  Him,  who  said  that  under  those 
circumstances,  and  under  those  alone,  would  Christianity 
expire.  Listen  then  you  who,  professing  yourselves 
Christians,  have  come  to  hear  of  the  evidences  of  Chris- 
tianity. It  is  not  given  to  every  man  to  study  and  to 
master  all  the  historical  evidences  of  Christianity  ;  but  it 
is  given  to  every  man,  if  he  will,  to  be  himself  an  evidence 
of  Christianity.  Everyone  of  you  may  be  living  epistles 
of  your  Lord,  known  and  read  of  all  men  ;  or  you  may  be 
living  libels  on  your  Lord,  known  and  read  of  all  men. 


156  THE  DEMONSTRATION  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 


If  every  professing  Christian  in  this  city  of  Norwich  were 
this  day  a  spiritual  living  evidence  of  Christ,  there  would 
be  little  need  for  sermons  on  the  evidences  of  Christianity. 
Go  home,  you  who  profess  and  call  yourselves  Christians 
— go  home,  and  upon  your  knees  bend  before  the  Saviour 
whose  name  you  bear,  and  beseech  Him  through  faith  in 
His  name  to  save  you  from  your  sins ;  so  that,  seeing  you, 
men  shall  own  in  you  a  great  work  of  God.  Then  shall 
you  be,  through  all  your  lives,  an  evidence  of  Christ  and 
of  Christianity,  and  souls  will  be  won  by  your  holy  lives 
to  the  feet  of  your  Divine  Master.  So  his  name,  through 
faith  in  His  name,  preached  faithfully  by  tbe  lives  of  His 
servants  in  this  world,  shall  still  continue  to  give  that 
soundness  in  the  sight  of  all  men,  which  shall  be  the 
clearest  and  most  enduring  evidence  that  He  has  come 
from  God. 


THE  GIFT  OF  TONGUES  AT  PENTECOST. 


THE  GIFT  OF  TONGUES  AT  PENTECOST. 


Peeaciied  in  Canteebuey  Cathedeal,  May  28,  1872. 
"Are  not  all  these  Galileans?" — Acts  ii.  7,  8. 

THE  title  which  is  generally  given  to  the  miracle  in  our 
text  is  a  most  unhappy  one.  It  partly  expresses  and 
partly  causes  a  most  mistaken  idea  as  to  the  true  meaning 
of  it.  The  miracle,  as  you  know,  is  generally  entitled  the 
miraculous  gift  of  tongues  at  Pentecost.  By  this  many 
persons  understand  the  bestowal  on  the  Apostles  of  the 
power  of  preaching  in  other  languages  than  their  own 
without  any  previous  study  ;  a  power  which  was  supposed 
especially  to  fit  them  for  their  mission  to  all  the  world. 
And  of  this  gift  the  miraculous  speeches  at  Pentecost  are 
supposed  to  be  the  first  manifestation. 

And  even  those  who  do  not  go  so  far  as  this,  even  those 
who  know  that  there  is  no  trace  in  the  history  of  the 
early  Church  of  any  such  power  as  this — nay,  that  there 
is  clear  proof  that  it  never  did  possess  it — that  there  never 
was  a  time  in  the  world's  history  when  any  such  gift  was 
less  needed  by  Christian  missionaries  than  it  was  then — 
even  these  are  so  far  under  the  influences  of  this  idea  that 
although  they  do  not  believe  that  this  gift  continued  in 
the  Church  or  to  the  Apostles,  yet  believe  that  on  this  one 
occasion  it  was  possessed  by  them ;  that  on  this  day  of 
Pentecost  for  the  first  preaching  of  the  Gospel  to  the 
multitudes  from  many  nations  gathered  to  hear  it,  the 


160         THE  GIFT  OF  TONGUES  AT  PENTECOST. 


Apostles  were  miraculously  enabled  to  preach  to  them  in 
their  own  tongues. 

And  yet  there  certainly  is  nothing  in  the  narrative  to 
justify  any  such  notion  as  this.  It  is  clear  from  it  that  the 
Apostles  were  not  speaking  to  these  multitudes  at  all,  but 
to  each  other.  It  was  before  the  assembling  of  the 
multitudes  that  they  "  began  to  speak  with  other  tongues 
as  the  Spirit  gave  them  utterance."  It  was  the  fume  of 
this  strange  fact — it  was  the  wonderful  report  that  was 
noised  abroad  of  this  and  of  the  other  wonders  of  that 
day — that  gathered  together  the  multitudes  from  all 
the  streets  of  Jerusalem,  and  when  they  come  they  hear 
evidently  no  preaching,  in  our  sense  of  the  word,  no  such 
sermon  or  sermons  as  Peter  afterwards  delivers.  They 
hear  them  speaking  of  the  wondrous  works  of  God.  They 
hear  these  men,  filled  with  the  might  and  the  joy  of  their 
new  gift  of  the  indwelling  Spirit,  proclaiming  in  words  of 
praise,  in  songs  of  triumph,  as  He  gave  them  utterance, 
the  wonderful  works  that  He  had  wrought.  It  is  not  the 
sermon  of  the  new  Church  that  they  hear.  It  is  its  psalm 
— its  battle-song,  before  it  joins  in  the  battle. 

The  battle — the  great  battle  of  that  host  of  the  Lord 
against  sin  and  error  is  yet  to  begin — the  first  blow  is 
about  to  be  struck — the  words  of  the  Apostle  shall  bring 
in  that  one  day  three  thousand  captives  to  the  Cross.  But 
at  this  moment  the  host  is  but  gathering  itself  to  the 
battle,  with  the  gleam  of  fire  for  its  banner,  the  rushing 
mighty  wind  for  its  trumpet,  and  the  inspired  songs  of 
its  leaders  for  its  battle  march.  It  stands  drawn  up  in 
array  in  the  camp  of  the  Lord,  and  the  shout  as  of  a  king  is 
heard  amongst  them,  and  the  multitudes  look  and  wonder 
and  fear.  They  feel  that  God  is  indeed  once  more 
revealing  Himself  to  men. 

So  contemplated,  this  miraculous  speech  at  Pentecost 


THE  GIFT  OF  TONGUES  AT  PENTECOST.  161 


regains  its  true  meaning.  It  is  seen  to  be,  like  the  other 
two  miracles  of  that  day,  the  tongues  of  fire  and  the 
rushing  wind,  a  miracle  purely  and  strictly  symbolical. 
All  these  together  are  seen  to  be  signs — significant,  speak- 
ing, deeply  meaning  signs,  that  herald  the  coming  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  and  the  beginning  of  His  work  on  earth. 

The  whole  scene  stands  out  and  apart  from  the  preceding 
and  succeeding  history — like  the  scene  of  the  adoration  of 
the  Magi,  or  the  transfiguration  on  the  Mount,  typical, 
significant,  apocalyptic,  revealing  and  foreshadowing  the 
mysteries  and  the  glories  of  the  dispensation  it  announces, 
A  mystical  descent,  as  it  were,  of  Heaven  upon  earth,  a 
vision  and  revelation  of  the  glories  of  the  Heavenly  City, 
unveiling  the  Bride  of  the  Lamb  as  she  shall  yet  be  in 
her  beauty,  and  her  glorious  apparel  shown  for  one 
moment  to  the  eye  of  men,  and  then  vanishing  away,  to 
be  seen  of  the  eye  of  faith  alone. 

And,  as  we  so  contemplate  it,  the  beauty  and  the  signifi- 
cance of  each  symbol  reveals  itself  to  us — the  tongues  of  fire, 
that  tell  of  the  fiery  baptism  that  is  to  cleanse  the  Church 
of  God,  enlightening  ever  as  it  cleanses  :  the  mighty  rush- 
ing wind,  mysterious  in  its  origin  and  its  direction,  the 
wind  of  which  we  cannot  tell  whence  it  cometh  nor  whither 
it  goeth,  yet  so  mighty  in  its  all-pervading  power,  sym- 
bolical of  the  force,  the  mighty,  irresistible,  spiritual  force 
that  is  one  day  to  fill  the  whole  world,  as  its  symbols  filled 
the  room  that  day :  and  then  this  inspired  speech,  this 
many- voiced  utterance  of  the  Spirit,  proclaiming  in  every 
language  the  wonderful  works  of  God,  symholic  of  the 
gathering  together  of  the  scattered  sons  of  men  around  the 
true  and  only  centre  of  humanity,  the  stilling  of  the 
strifes  of  speech,  the  healing  of  the  disunion  of  men, 
the  attuning  of  all  earth's  many  voices  in  the  great  song 
of  praise,  that,  like  the  roar  of  many  waters,  is  to  sing 

M 


162 


THE  GIFT  OF  TONGUES  AT  PENTECOST. 


the  praise  of  the  wondrous  works  of  God.  All  these  are 
here.  All  these  together  make  the  scene  the  type,  and, 
for  an  instant,  the  foretaste  of  that  Kingdom  of  God 
which  in  that  hour  the  Spirit  was  descending  upon  earth 
to  found. 

And  now  that  we  have  clearly  fixed  in  our  minds  the 
idea  of  the  typical  nature  of  this  miracle  on  the  day  of 
Pentecost,  let  us  contemplate  it  a  little  more  closely.  It 
may  be  that  it  requires  now  a  closer  study  than  the  other 
two  from  the  very  fact  that  its  typical  character  has  not 
been  so  fully  recognised  as  theirs.  It  may,  perhaps,  yield 
some  truth  to  our  search  that  we  have  not  before  seen 
in  it. 

Observe  then  the  peculiar  manner  in  which  we  are  told 
this  miraculous  effect  upon  the  multitude  was  brought 
about.  The  effect  was  that  the  words  of  the  Apostles  were 
intelligible  to  them. 

Now  this  effect  might  have  been  produced  in  either  of 
two  ways.  It  might  have  been  done  by  miraculously 
enabling  these  Parthians  and  Medes  and  Elamites  to 
understand  Hebrew  or  the  Galilean  dialect  of  it.  Or  it 
might  have  been  effected  by  enabling  these  Galileans 
to  speak  in  the  language  of  these  Parthians  and  Medes  and 
Elamites.  Practically  the  result  would  have  been  pre- 
cisely the  same  in  either  case,  and  the  miracle  would  have 
been  as  great.  In  either  case  the  hearers  would  miracu- 
lously have  been  enabled  to  understand  the  speakers. 
But  would  the  typical  meaning  and  teaching  of  the  miracle 
have  been  the  same  in  either  case  ?  Yery  far  from  it. 
Here  it  would  have  made  all  the  difference  in  the  world. 
Observe.  In  the  one  case  these  Parthians  and  Medes  and 
Elamites  would  have  become  so  far  Galileans  that  they 
would  have  thought  and  learned  through  the  Galilean 
tongues.    In  the  other  case  these  Galileans  became  so  far 


THE  GIFT  OF  TONGUES  AT  PENTECOST.  163 


Parthians  and  Medes  and  Elamites,  that  they  thought  and 
spoke  in  these  foreign  tongues.  In  the  one  case  the  hearer, 
in  order  to  receive  the  Gospel,  must  have  learned  the 
speech  or  the  idiom  of  the  teacher.  In  the  other  case  the 
teacher  must  have  acquired  the  speech  of  the  hearer.  In 
the  one  case  the  disciple  must  have  become,  as  it  were,  of 
the  same  nation  with  his  master — in  the  other  the  master 
becomes,  as  it  were,  of  the  same  nation  with  his  disciple. 

Now  does  not  this  exactly  represent  the  essential  differ- 
ence between  the  old  dispensation  and  the  new,  between 
the  Jewish  Kingdom  and  the  Christian  ? 

Before  this  day  of  Pentecost  every  one  of  these  hearers, 
before  they  entered  the  Kingdom  of  God,  must  first 
become  Jews,  must  be  adopted  into  the  nation  of  those 
whose  creed  they  would  accept  and  whose  privileges  they 
would  share.  They  actually  had  done  so.  These  prose- 
lytes had  become  Jews  that  they  might  have  the  God  of 
the  Jews  for  their  God.  Their  Gospel,  their  good  news 
was  a  strictly  Jewish  Gospel ;  their  faith,  a  Jewish  faith  ; 
their  hope,  a  Jewish  hope.  By  accepting  it  they  expa- 
triated themselves;  they  became,  as  it  were,  naturalised 
citizens  of  another  nation  than  their  own.  They  had  so 
far  ceased  to  be  Parthians,  Medes,  Elamites,  Romans, 
Greeks  ;  they  were  Jews. 

And  this,  which  was  especially  true  of  the  Jewish  faith, 
was,  in  a  measure,  true  of  all  other  religions  save  one.  They 
were,  one  and  all  of  them,  intensely  national.  They  reflect 
the  climate,  the  scenery,  the  local  condition  of  the  country 
in  which  they  take  their  rise.  They  reflect  the  tempera- 
ment, the  history,  the  traditions  of  the  race  to  which  they 
belong.  The  gods  of  the  Greeks  are  unlike  the  gods  of 
the  Romans,  as  the  Greek  was  unlike  the  Roman,  and  the 
gods  of  the  East  were  unlike  either.  The  genius  of  each 
nation  revealed  itself  as  distinctly  in  its  temple  as  it  did 


164 


THE  GIFT  OF  TONGUES  AT  PENTECOfeT. 


in  its  dress,  or  its  speech,  or  its  laws.  When  the  Roman 
accepted  the  worship  of  the  Greek,  or  of  the  East,  it  was 
because  he,  so  far,  had  become  in  his  teaching  a  Greek  or 
an  Eastern.  He  prayed  to  other  gods  of  other  races  just 
so  far  as  he  had  become  of  that  race. 

Something  there  must  of  course  have  been  in  common 
between  all  these  religions — something  as  it  were  of  that 
original  mother-speech  of  prayer  in  which  all  nations 
learn  to  say  "  Father,"  but  all  that  strange  diversity  of 
language,  all  that  confusion  of  dialect  in  men's  worship, 
was  the  intensely  local  colouring,  the  nationality  of  their 
faiths.  Whoever  would  learn  any  one  of  these  must,  as  it 
were,  first  become  one  with  them.  The  law  of  all  conver- 
sions hitherto  had  been  that  the  hearer  should  learn  the 
spirit,  should  accept  the  nationality  of  the  teacher. 

And  this  was  just  the  reason  why  no  religion  had  as  yet 
largely  spread,  just  the  reason  why  the  very  idea  of  a 
missionary  religion  had  never  entered  into  the  minds  of 
men.  Because  this  change  was  something  hard  and  un- 
natural, all  but  impossible ;  because  men  could  not  thus 
cast  themselves  out  of  their  own  nature  and  form  another ; 
because  the  mother-tongue  was  sweet  and  its  associations 
tender  and  tuneful ;  because  man  still  loved  to  hear  of 
the  wondrous  works  of  God  in  the  tongue  in  which  he  was 
born,  therefore  it  was  that  no  world-wide  mission — no 
Catholic  faith — had  ever  arisen  amongst  men.  But  now 
a  new  thing  is  to  be  seen  amongst  men.  Now  there  is  a 
new  faith  revealing  itself,  the  very  essence  of  which  is  its 
missionary  nature,  the  very  aim  of  which  is  to  make 
disciples  of  all  nations — a  religion  which  is  not  to  be 
national,  or  exclusive,  but  Catholic  ;  a  religion  in  which 
there  were  to  be  neither  Jew  nor  Gentile,  Barbarian, 
Scythian,  bond,  or  free  ;  a  religion  whose  altars  were  to 
be  on  every  hill ;  its  temples  wherever  two  or  three  were 


THE  GIFT  OF  TONGUES  AT  PENTECOST. 


165 


gathered  together.  And  what  is  the  condition  of  its  suc- 
cess, what  is  the  law  of  its  progress  r  It  is  this — not  that 
the  hearer  is  to  learn  the  speech  of  the  teacher,  but  that 
the  teacher  is  to  learn  the  speech  of  the  hearer.  It  is  not 
a  Jewish,  it  is  not  a  Galilean  gospel,  these  missionaries 
have  to  teach.  It  is  the  everlasting  Gospel ;  the  good 
news  of  God  for  every  man  and  every  nation  ;  the  faith 
whose  traditions  are  for  all  times  ;  the  faith  which  is  of  and 
for  every  man,  every  clime,  every  nation  ;  the  faith  in  which 
all  the  dim  traditions,  all  the  distortions,  all  the  sighing  and 
groaning  of  the  nations  of  the  earth  find  their  true  mean- 
ing and  their  real  expression  ;  a  religion  which  is  to 
find  itself  a  home  in  every  nation,  a  creed,  a  liturgy,  in 
every  language  under  heaven ;  a  religion  whose  nature 
and  whose  history  are  both  symbolised  in  this,  that  on  the 
day  of  its  utterance  on  earth  men  of  every  nation  heard, 
every  man  in  his  own  tongue,  the  wondrous  works  of  God. 

I  have  said  this  was  a  new  thing  in  the  world.  The 
very  idea  of  a  Catholic  Church,  or  universal  religion,  had 
never  so  much  as  entered  into  men's  minds  before. 

But  the  realisation  of  this  idea  is  more  than  new — it  is 
marvellous,  it  is  miraculous.  We  are  so  accustomed  to 
the  idea  of  the  Holy  Catholic  Church,  we  are  so  familiar 
with  the  fact  of  Christianity  sowing  itself,  taking  root, 
growing  in  every  nation  and  climate,  that  it  has  ceased 
to  appear  strange  to  us.  We  have  come  to  think  that  it 
is  the  easiest  and  most  natural  thing  possible  to  devise  a 
universal  religion  that  can  adapt  itself  to  the  condition  of 
all  races  and  all  countries.  We  think  that  all  that  is 
necessary  is  just  to  divest  any  one  religion  of  its  peculiar 
distinctive  local  colouring,  to  find  out  what  are  the  great 
central  truths  it  has  in  common  with  all  others,  and  to 
preach  these  and  all  men  will  accept  them. 

Those  who  talk  in  this  way  show  strange  ignorance  of 


166         THE  GIFT  OF  TONGUES  AT  PENTECOST. 


human  nature  and  human  history.  They  forget  that  to 
divest  a  religion  of  all  that  is  local  and  peculiar  and  natural 
in  it  is  to  divest  it  of  all  attractiveness  for  the  vast 
majority  of  men.  They  forget  that  it  is  just  this  natural 
colouring — just  this  interweaving  of  the  faith  of  the  nation 
with  its  traditions,  its  history,  its  local  customs — just  its 
intense  and  perfect  adaptation  to  the  nation,  that  gives  it 
all  its  strength,  all  its  hold  upon  the  heart  of  the  people. 
A  cold,  colourless  creed,  with  its  one  or  two  philosophi- 
cally accurate  propositions,  may  unite  the  philosophers 
who  compose  creeds  in  their  studies — it  would  not  have  an 
hour's  life  in  the  streets.  It  would  share  the  fate  of  the 
attempt  to  constitute  a  universal  language.  The  lan- 
guage might  be  most  philosophically  constituted,  most 
admirable  in  its  grammar,  perfect  in  its  power  of  expres- 
sion, yet  no  one  would  care  to  learn  it.  The  multitude 
would  cling  to  the  old  familiar  speech,  with  all  its  old  asso- 
ciations, with  its  dear,  sweet  memories,  the  speech  of  their 
fathers,  the  tongue  in  which  every  one  of  them  was  born. 
So  would  it  be  with  this  philosophically  constituted  reli- 
gion, constituted  solely  on  the  principle  of  extracting  the 
essence  of  belief  out  of  each  creed — the  residuum  after  it 
had  passed  through  the  crucible  of  the  manufacturer.  It 
would  have  just  this  one  incurable  fault,  that,  admirable 
as  it  might  be,  no  one  would  particularly  care  to  learn  it. 
Why  should  they  ?  On  the  showing  of  the  inventor  it 
would  be  only  the  essence  of  the  creed  each  man  already 
possessed.  He  would  have  it  thus,  it  seems,  substantially 
already.  Why  should  he  forego  those  additions,  those 
attractions  which  made  the  rest  of  his  faith  and  which  he 
had  learned  to  love  ?  At  any  rate  no  nation  has  ever  done 
this ;  time  enough  to  talk  of  it  when  it  does. 

But  they  forget  another  fact,  that  whatever  might  be 
the  success  of  such  an  attempt,  it  was  not  in  this  way 


THE  GIFT  OF  TONGUES  AT  PENTECOST. 


167 


Christianity  did  succeed.  The  religion  that  these  Apostles 
preached  was  not  their  former  religion  pared  down  to  a 
minimum  ;  it  was  not  simply  Judaism  deprived  of  its  local 
colouring,  reduced  to  its  central  idea  of  one  God.  On  the 
contrary,  it  was  Judaism  developed  and  enlarged  ;  changed, 
not  by  the  taking  away  merely  of  old  beliefs,  but  by  the 
distinct  addition  of  new.  They  did  not  go  out  into  the 
world  to  preach  the  worship  of  one  God  and  that  only. 
They  went  out  to  teach  the  worship  of  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost.  They  went  out  to  declare  the  God  whom  all 
men  ignorantly  worship  ;  but  more — that  He  had  sent 
His  Son  to  take  upon  Him  our  nature,  to  live  and  die  and 
rise  again.  They  proclaimed  the  fact  of  the  Incarnation, 
the  mystery  of  Redemption,  the  miracle  of  the  Resurrec- 
tion and  the  Ascension,  and  the  coming  of  the  Holv 
Ghost.  They  went  everywhere,  preaching  Jesus  and  the 
Resurrection.  And  in  the  might  of  that  name,  in  the 
power  of  those  new  truths,  they  went  forth  conquering  and 
to  conquer. 

It  was  not,  then,  merely  by  what  it  hud  in  common 
with  other  religions,  but  by  what  it  had  which  differed 
from  all  other  religions ;  not  by  its  old  truths  made  clear, 
but  by  new  truths  revealed,  that  Christianity  gathered  its 
multitudes  from  every  nation  under  heaven. 

And  one  thing  more  is  too  often  forgotten  by  those 
who  look  lightly  on  the  miracle  of  a  universal  religion,  of 
a  Catholic  Church.  That  is,  the  intensely  local  and 
national  character  of  these  very  facts  on  which  it  rested 
and  the  circumstances  under  which  it  took  its  rise.  "Who 
were  these  men  who  went  forth  to  preach  a  universal 
religion,  to  found  a  Catholic,  world-wide  Church  ?  Were 
not  they  all  Galileans — the  companions  and  friends  of 
the  son  of  a  Galilean  peasant,  trained  from  their  youth 
up  in  the  narrow  and  exclusive  tradition  of  the  most 


168 


THE  GIFT  OF  TONGUES  AT  PENTECOST. 


exclusive  of  all  faiths,  incapable  themselves — incapable 
themselves  for  long  after — of  conceiving  the  idea  of  any 
Kingdom  of  God  but  a  Jewish  one  ?  What  did  they  go  to 
tell  men  ?  Of  the  life  and  death  of  a  Galilean,  of  a  J ew. 
What  were  the  sacred  writings  of  their  faith  they  carried 
with  them  ?  The  waitings  of  Jews.  What  were  their 
dress,  speech,  habits,  ideas  ?  All  Jewish,  intensely  Jewish  ! 
And  yet  out  of  this  bigoted  narrow  nature,  out  of  this 
local,  national,  traditional  faith,  by  the  hands  of  these 
practically  Jewish  teachers,  went  forth  this  story  of  a 
Jewish  life — these  words  of  Jewish  writers  ;  and  it  gave 
rise  to  a  faith  which  alone  of  all  faiths  was  found  to  adapt 
itself  to  all  races,  to  naturalize  itself  in  every  country,  to 
be  no  more  Jewish  than  it  was  Roman,  no  more  Roman 
than  Grecian,  no  more  Grecian  than  Indian ;  a  faith 
whose  bitterest  opponents  at  every  stage  were  Jews,  who 
opposed  it  because  out  of  the  Book  the  Jews  believed  in 
it  drew  its  clearest  proof  that  a  Jew  was  to  be  the  Lord 
of  all  mankind. 

Yes,  brethren,  the  fame  of  that  wonder  has  not  died 
away  in  the  streets  of  the  world's  cities.  Still  the  mes- 
sengers of  the  crucified  Jew  go  forth  with  tongues  of 
fire,  and  with  words  that  speak  to  the  hearts  of  all  man- 
kind. Still  the  multitude  gathers,  and  still  the  wonder 
expresses  itself — are  not  all  these  Galileans  ?  These  men 
whose  writings  move  us  teach  us  as  none  other  do. 
These  men,  whose  spirit  fills  ours  even  as  the  rushing 
mighty  wind,  are  not  all  these  Galileans  ?  Those  older 
writers  whom  they  give  to  us — these  prophets,  whose 
words  ot  fire  burn  their  thoughts  into  our  very  hearts, 
these  psalmists,  whose  songs  express  as  no  other  can  the 
hopes,  the  fears,  the  sorrows  of  our  souls — words  that 
in  every  clime  and  every  tongue  speak  to  counsel,  to 
strengthen,  to  teach, — these  men,  whose  faith  is  our  faith, 


THE  GIFT  OF  TONGUES  AT  PENTECOST.  169 


whose  hope  is  our  hope,  whose  prayers  are  our  prayers, 
are  not  they  all,  as  it  were,  Galileans  ?  And  He  to  whom 
they  all  testify ;  He  of  whom  the  prophets  foretold  and 
psalmists  sang,  and  apostles  preached,  and  martyrs  lived 
and  died  for  ;  He  whose  story,  told  by  their  lips,  gathered 
and  still  gathers  all  men  of  every  multitude  under  heaven 
around  His  cross  and  grave  ;  He  whose  name  is  breathed 
in  prayer  in  every  language  under  heaven — is  not  He  a 
Galilean  ? 

Whence  hath  this  Man  this  power  ?  How  came  this 
universal  faith  from  this  contracted  and  local  creed  ?  How 
from  this  narrow  well,  at  which  a  few  Jewish  peasants 
quenched  their  thirst,  has  spread  this  ever  rising,  swelling 
and  prevailing  tide,  which  was  destined  to  cover  the  earth  ? 
This  is  a  strange  fact,  a  marvellous  fact,  a  miraculous 
fact.  We  believe  that  it  needed  nothing  less  than  two 
great  miracles  to  produce  it ;  and  nothing  less  than  these 
can  account  for  it.  They  are  the  two  which  are  given 
as  the  reason  of  it  in  the  first  speech  of  its  first  preacher. 

"  God  hath  exalted — hath  shed  forth  this." 

But  let  us  look  still  more  closely  at  this  type  of 
Christianity  and  see  if  we  may  discover  in  it  anything 
more  of  the  nature  and  condition  of  its  progress. 

Observe  this  exclamation,"  J.  re  not  all  these  Galileans  ?" 
The  hearers,  it  seems,  although  they  heard  every  man  in 
his  own  tongue,  were  able  at  the  same  time  to  perceive 
that  the  speakers  were  Galileans, — not  by  their  dress, 
which  must  have  been  that  of  the  Eastern  peasant,  but, 
doubtless,  by  their  speech,  by  that  Galilean  accent,  which 
we  know  betrayed  the  origin  of  one  of  them  so  lately. 
Observe  then  what  we  have  here.  We  have  Galileans 
who  speak  as  if  they  were  Parthians,  and  Medes,  and 
Elamitee,  and  yet  not  altogether  and  entirely  so.  Their 
own  distinct  nationality  revealed  itself  in  their  new 


170 


THE  GIFT  OF  TONGUES  AT  PEXTECOST. 


utterances.  They  were  as  Parthians,  and  Medes,  and 
yet  they  were  Galileans  too.  The  Galilean  accent  made 
itself  heard  through  the  Parthian  or  the  Roman  speech. 
Divers  as  were  their  tongues  that  day,  one  thing  was 
common  to  all,  their  native  Galilean  sound.  Is  there 
nothing  in  the  nature  of  Christianity  which  exactly  cor- 
responds to  this  ?  What  is  it  that  we  have  already  seen 
that  distinguishes  it  from  all  other  religions  ?  These 
two  things — 

1st — That  it  is  a  Catholic  religion — a  religion  for  all 
the  world. 

2nd — That  it  is  distinctly  a  dogmatic  religion,  that  it 
reveals  to  the  world  distinct  facts,  essential  truths,  to  he 
believed. 

It  has,  then,  its  central,  its  essential  truths.  It  has 
also  its  power  of  adapting  these  truths  to  the  tempera- 
ment of  every  people.  It  has,  as  it  were,  its  own 
native  accent,  distinct,  irrepressible,  unmistakable.  It 
has  also  the  idioms,  the  turn  of  expressions  of  each 
nation  to  which  it  speaks.  It  is  Parthian,  Median, 
Elamite,  Roman  Christianit}\  It  is  Eastern,  it  is 
Western  Christianity.  It  is  English,  German,  Celtic 
Christianity — and  in  each  nation  in  its  prayers,  its  rites, 
and  ceremonies,  its  customs,  its  very  theology,  in  many 
aspects  even,  it  takes  the  national  turn,  adapts  itself  to  the 
national  temperament,  and  speaks  to  the  national  heart 
and  feeling.  It  is  and  must  be  in  all  nations  diverse, 
that  each  in  their  own  tongue  may  hear. 

But  still  this  diversity  has  its  limits  :  it  must  never  be 
so  great  as  to  destroy  original  unity.  The  great  central 
truths  must  never  be  let  go  or  lost  sight  of.  Still  must 
the  Galilean  accent  ring  clear  and  distinct  through  all 
the  diversities  of  national  speech.  Still  must  the  great 
dogmas  of  the  Christian  faith  be  heard,  though  it  be  in 
many  idioms. 


THE  GIFT  OF  TONGUES  AT  FENTECOST.  171 


But,  on  the  other  hand,  this  clear  and  dogmatic  defini- 
tion of  truths  must  have  its  limits  too.  It  must  be  con- 
fined to  the  truths  that  are  essential,  that  are  central.  The 
unity  must  be  maintained,  but  with  it  the  diversity — 
with  it  the  largest  diversity — with  it  the  widest  variation 
consistent  with  the  maintenance  of  the  truth,  which  is 
its  life.  If  either  of  these  great  principles  is  lost,  or 
overshadowed  by  the  other,  then  Christianity  begins  to 
lose  its  power  and  its  charm.  If,  when  the  multitudes 
gather  together,  they  hear  only  each  his  own  tongue,  each 
the  exact  reflection  of  his  own  feelings,  his  own  tem- 
perament, his  own  beHefs  ;  if  Christianity  is  to  be  just 
what  every  man  thinks  or  feels  it  ought  to  be,  then 
Babel  is  come  again,  then  a  confusion,  a  chaos  of  unin- 
telligible, unmeaning  babblings  takes  the  place  of  the 
speech  that  should  proclaim  the  works  of  Grod.  But,  on 
the  other  hand,  if,  when  they  come,  they  hear  no  common 
intelligible  utterance,  no  words  that  all  men  understand, 
but  only  the  harsh,  hard  accents  of  some  provincial  dialect, 
only  the  hissing  shibboleth  of  some  sect  insisting  that  the 
shibboleth  be  said  as  the  condition  of  salvation,  if  the 
dialect  be  all  Galilean,  and  there  be  no  echo  of  the  tongue 
in  which  each  is  born,  then  the  multitudes,  disappointed, 
offended,  turn  away — it  may  be  never  to  return. 

But  if,  while  holding  fast  to  the  central  truths  of 
Christianity,  those  truths  that  are  its  very  life ;  those 
truths  that  just  because  they  are  central  truths  must 
necessarily  be  looked  on  from  many  sides, — can  hardly, 
perhaps,  be  altogether  seen  from  any  one  point  of  view ; 
if,  while  holding  them,  we  also  understand  and  do  not 
fear  to  admit  that  there  may  and  must  be  thus  diversity 
of  aspect ;  if  we  understand  how  absolutely  essential  it 
is  to  the  growth  of  Christianity  that  this  diversity  should 
exist,  that  it  should  reflect  the  temperament,  the  genius, 


172 


THE  GIFT  OF  TONGUES  AT  PENTECOST. 


the  histories  even,  of  each  nation  it  enters  :  if  we*under- 
stand  how  impossibje  it  is,  how  undesirable  it  is  that 
Eastern  Christianity  and  Western  Christianity,  English 
Christianity  and  Indian,  and  African,  or  European  Chris- 
tianity be  exactly  identical  in  form  and  speech,  and  yet 
also  how  essential  it  is  that  they  be  identical  in  heart 
and  spirit ;  if  our  Christianity  be  at  once  thus  sternly 
faithful  and  largely  tolerant ;  if  it  can  keep  its  original 
accent  and  yet  speak  in  ever  varying  idiom,  then,  and 
in  the  measure  that  it  does  this,  will  our  faith  flourish  and 
spread,  because  it  will  be  more  and  more  the  faith  of  the 
day  of  Pentecost.  It  will  survive  the  changes  and  vicissi- 
tudes of  the  nation  and  the  language,  the  philosophies 
and  the  sciences,  the  politics  and  the  social  customs,  with 
which  it  blends  itself.  It  will  use  all  these,  mix  with  all 
these,  clothe  itself,  as  it  were,  in  turn  with  all  these,  find 
affinities  in  all  these  ;  and  yet  all  these  be  as  its  outward 
vesture,  to  be  changed,  folded  up,  cast  away,  while  it  still 
clothes  itself  anew  in  the  new  spirit,  the  new  philosophy, 
the  new  metaphysics,  which  serve  it  again,  as  did  the 
old,  but  as  a  garment,  a  fashion  more  or  less  becoming,  a 
fashion  which  commends  itself  at  the  time  and  passes 
away  when  it  has  served  its  time.  They  perish,  it  endures. 
"  For  the  word  of  the  Lord  endureth  for  ever." 

Of  course  there  follow  from  this  two  or  three  very  clear 
and  obvious  inferences. 

1st — That  we  do  hold  fast  with  a  firm  and  unwavering 
grasp  the  great  central  truths,  the  eternal  verities  of  the 
Christian  faith  ;  not  merely  those  central  truths  which 
it  holds  in  common  with  others,  but  those  which  it  holds 
as  essentially  its  own ;  the  faith  in  the  incarnate  and 
redeeming  Son,  the  eternal  Spirit  ;  the  faith  in  that 
name  into  which  we  are  baptized — Father,  Son  and  Holy 
Ghost. 


THE  GIFT  OB'  TONGUES  AT  PENTECOST. 


173 


2nd — That  we  as  distinctly  recognise  the  possibility, 
nay,  the  necessity  of  many  forms  of  Christian  life  and 
Christian  sentiment,  and  even  of  Christian  opinion — 
which  will  grow  out  of  these  truths  according  to  the 
temperament,  the  mind,  the  stage  of  civilisation  of  each 
nation  or  each  individual.  That  we  be  not  dismayed  at 
this  diversity — the  necessary  result  of  human  imperfec- 
tion— that  we  understand  and  recognise  this  fact,  that 
the  faith  that  expresses  itself  really  in  every  tongue  must 
adapt  itself  to  the  capacities  of  that  speech,  That,  just 
as  we  would  expect  and  wish  our  little  ones  to  have  a 
child's  idea  of  God  and  Christ  and  Heaven  ;  just  as  we 
would  not  be  so  foolish  as  to  attempt  to  strain  and  hurt 
these  infant  minds  with  all  the  strong  meat  of  our 
theology  ;  so  for  nations,  so  for  parts  of  the  same  nation, 
be  content  if  their  religious  views  be  in  proportion  to 
their  views  in  other  things — a  childish  view,  a  peasant's 
view,  and  yet  a  real  view  of  Christ  and  God,  a  real  faith, 
but  uttering  itself  in  native  and  uncouth  speech.  That, 
while  anxious  that  all  should  hold  the  Christian  faith, 
we  be  not  too  anxious  that  all  should  utter  it  precisely 
in  the  same  idiom. 

Perhaps,  in  that  case,  our  missions  might  gain  the  life 
and  vigour  they  seem  to  need — if  we  cared  that  our 
Indian  and  African  Churches  be  really  native  Churches, 
racy  of  the  soil,  and  did  not  insist  on  forcing  on  the  mind  of 
the  Oriental,  the  knowledge  of  all  the  metaphysics  and  all 
the  logical  distinctions  of  our  "Western  Christianity  ;  if 
we  did  not  insist  upon  enforcing,  in  all  its  minutest 
details,  the  calm  and  staid  solemnity  of  our  Anglican  rites 
upon  more  unquiet  races  than  ours.  It  might  be  as  well 
if  we  remembered  that  our  mission  is  not  to  transplant  a 
tree,  but  to  sow  a  seed.  In  the  one  case,  we  do  succeed  in 
planting  and  rearing  carefully  a  small  and  weak  exotic  ; 


174 


THE  GUT  OF  TONGUES  AT  PENTECOST. 


neatly  pruned  and  carefully  tended,  it  does  grow  and  live, 
and  it  is  a  remarkable  proof  of  its  vitality  that  it  does.  In 
the  other  case  we  sow  in  faith  the  acorn  that  is  yet  to  be  a 
great  tree,  and  it  grows  in  shade  and  sunshine,  storm  and 
calm,  now  bent  to  earth,  now  wildly  tossing  to  and  fro, 
its  trunk  scarred  by  the  lightning,  weather-stained, 
gnarled,  moss-grown  here  and  there,  but  strong  and 
vigorous  and  sturdy,  stretching  down  its  roots  deeper  and 
deeper  into  the  soil,  flinging  wide  its  mighty  boughs, 
clothing  itself  still  in  the  green  beauty  of  its  leaves  and 
the  golden  glory  of  its  ripening  fruit ;  and  the  fowls  of 
the  air  come  to  lodge  in  its  branches,  and  we,  the  strangers 
who  planted,  bless  and  praise  His  name  who  gave  this 
fruit  of  our  labours. 

But,  lastly,  surely  we  learn  this  lesson,  that  it  is  neither 
in  creeds,  however  true,  nor  yet  in  rites  and  ceremonies, 
however  produced,  that  the  life  of  Christianity  consists — 
that  with  them,  in  them,  through  them,  must  breathe 
the  living  indwelling  Spirit.  Not  the  tongues  of  fire, 
not  the  rushing  wind,  not  the  speech  in  other  tongues 
won  the  crowds  on  Pentecost.  It  was  this,  that  they 
who  spake,  spake  as  the  Spirit  gave  them  utterance — 
that  they  were  filled  with,  were  possessed  by  that  mighty 
force  which  alone  can  fill  and  possess  the  world  at  last. 
Let  us  never  forget  this — all  history  of  the  Church  teaches 
us  that  the  most  orthodox  creeds,  the  most  pure  worship 
may  exist,  and  yet  no  progress — no  multitudes  gathering 
— because  the  formula  is  dead ;  because,  the  worship  un- 
meaning, it  speaks  no  language,  it  utters  no  word  that 
goes  from  the  heart,  and  therefore  never  reaches  the 
heart.  On  the  other  hand,  the  smallest  fragment  of  vital 
truth,  however  overlaid  with  error,  if  only  a  living  truth 
held  by  a  living  soul,  may  work  again  the  miracle  of 
Pentecost.    It  is  the  living  man,  the  new  man  quite  as 


THE  GIFT  Or  TONGUES  AT  PENTECOST. 


175 


much  as  the  new  truths  he  has  received  and  preaches  that 
gives  new  life  to  the  Church.  Not  Luther's  doctrine  of 
justification  by  faith  only,  but  Luther's  faith  turned 
empires  upside  down ;  not  the  doctrine  of  conversion  of 
"Wesley  and  Whitfield,  but  their  own  conversion ;  not  the 
doctrine  of  the  saintly  life,  but  the  saintly  life  itself  made 
the  "  Christian  Year  "  the  household  words  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church. 

So  from  age  to  age  the  Church  has  renewed  her  youth. 
As  with  tongues  of  fire,  with  sound  of  rushing  wind,  the 
Spirit  of  Grod  has  come  down  again  and  again  to  send 
forth  living  men  to  utter  old  truths  with  a  new  and 
living  speech,  as  He  gives  them  utterance. 

Pray  that  it  may  be  so  still.  Pray  that  the  Church  in 
troublous  times  have  grace  to  hold  fast  the  faith  once 
delivered.  Pray  still  that  she  be  filled  with  the  Spirit's 
power  to  proclaim  it  in  its  Pentecostal  fulness — in 
each  of  us  a  Spirit's  might — to  speak,  as  the  Spirit  gives 
us  utterance,  the  wondrous  works  of  God. 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD. 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD. 


Peeached  at  "Windsor,  November  30,  1884. 

"Love  not  the  world,  neither  the  things  that  are  in  the  world. "If 
any  man  love  the  world,  the  love  of  the  Father  is  not  in  him." 

i  John  ii.  15. 

TO  those  who  first  heard  the  Apostle's  command,  "  Love 
not  the  world,  neither  the  things  of  the  world,"  it 
must  have  seemed  easier  to  understand  and  easier  to  obey 
than  it  does  to  us.  The  world  which  they  were  forbidden 
to  love  was  a  visible  one  ;  it  stood  out  before  them  in 
clear  outline,  sharply  divided  off  from  that  other  world 
to  which  they  as  Christians  belonged.  It  was  the  world 
of  heathendom  ;  it  was  that  pagan  society  which  lay  all 
around  them,  with  its  laws,  institutions,  beliefs,  manners, 
customs,  all  so  essentially  different  from  their  own.  It 
was  a  kingdom  which  they  had,  all  of  them,  at  one  time 
or  another  of  their  lives,  deliberately  forsaken  in  the 
hour  of  their  baptism,  when  they  entered  into  the  new 
Kingdom  of  God.  And  none  who  had  any  moral  sense, 
any  desire  for  righteousness,  could  have  doubted  which 
of  these  two  was  the  better  and  the  nobler  one.  The 
pagan  world  of  that  day  was  an  effete  and  a  decaying 
thing,  dying  of  its  own  corruption,  all  its  earlier  and 
healthier  morality  perishing,  all  things  base  and  foul  and 
vile  flourishing  within  it.  It  was  a  selfish,  a  profligate, 
a  cruel,  a  miserable,  a  despairing  world ;  and  over  against 
it  stood  the  new  Kingdom  of  Christ,  bright  with  the 


180 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD. 


beauty  and  the  power  of  its  new  life,  filled  with  the 
ennobling  and  sustaining  hope  of  immortality  ;  filled, 
too,  with  the  tenderness  and  the  purity  of  a  new  human 
brotherhood,  born  of  the  Fatherhood  in  Heaven.  "  Salt 
of  the  earth  !  "  "  Light  of  the  world  !  "  All  the  hopes, 
all  the  nobler  future  of  humanity  lay  within  its  borders, 
all  around  it  corruption  and  death.  So  visibly,  so  dis- 
tinctly apart  stood  those  two  kingdoms  then  that  the 
Apostle  John — looking  out,  as  it  were,  from  the  battle- 
ments of  the  new  city  of  God  that  he  and  his  brother 
Apostles  had  been  building  amongst  men — could  say, 
"  We  are  of  God,  the  whole  world  lieth  in  the  wicked 
one." 

But  for  us  this  state  of  things  has  long  since  passed 
away.  Humanity  in  our  time  is  not  divided  into  any  two 
such  visible  and  separate  kingdoms  as  those  the  Apostle 
saw.  The  world  of  our  day  has  long  since  been  merged 
in  the  outward  and  visible  Kingdom  of  Christ ;  it  is  bap- 
tized, it  is  Christian ;  we  call  it  Christendom.  It  accepts 
the  faith,  it  owns  the  laws,  it  professes  to  follow  the 
example  of  Christ.  We  cannot  say  of  any  visible  portion 
of  it,  "  This  is  all  of  God,  and  that  altogether  lies  in 
wickedness." 

Has  the  distinction,  then,  which  the  Apostle  drew 
between  the  Church  and  the  world  vanished  away  ?  Has 
this  precept,  "Love  not  the  world,"  no  meaning  for  us? 
Is  there  no  world  for  us  which  we  are  not  to  love,  whose 
friendship  must  be  for  us  enmity  to  God  ?  And  if  there 
be,  where  is  it,  what  is  it,  how  are  we  to  know  it  when 
we  see  it,  how  are  we  to  shun  it  when  we  know  it  ? 

Assuredly  there  is  such  a  world.  It  was  not  for 
Christians  of  his  day  only,  but  for  all  time  that  St.  J ohn 
was  speaking.  It  was  not  for  his  own  age,  but  for  all 
ages  to  come  that  St.  Paul  spoke  when  he  said,  "  Be  not 


THE  CHUKCH  AND  THE  WOKLD. 


181 


conformed  to  the  world,  but  be  ye  transformed  in  the 
renewing  of  your  minds."  It  was  not  for  the  disciples 
only  who  slept  beside  Him  in  His  hour  of  agony,  but 
for  "  all  whom  His  Father  had  given  Him,"  that  our 
Lord  said,  "  I  pray  that  Thou  shouldest  keep  them  from 
the  evil  that  is  in  the  world  ;  "  not  to  them  only,  but  to 
us  did  He  say,  "  My  peace  I  give  unto  you,  not  as  the 
world  giveth  give  I  unto  you ;  "  not  for  them  only,  but 
for  us  did  he  speak  that  word  which  has  sustained  the 
faith  and  hope  of  all  his  true  followers  since  the  hour 
when  He  spoke  it,  "  Be  of  good  cheer,  I  have  overcome 
the  world."  If,  then,  we  would  obey  these  precepts,  if  we 
would  take  to  our  hearts  these  promises  and  consolations, 
we  must  understand  what  is  the  world  we  are  to  shun, 
what  it  is  to  be  worldly  or  worldly-minded,  what,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  is  to  be  heavenly  or  heavenly-minded. 

This  is,  obviously,  a  very  practical  question,  it  is  one 
that  must  affect  our  whole  idea  and  rule  of  life.  To  ask 
this  question  is  really  to  ask,  on  what  plan,  on  what 
principle  shall  I  liy  out  my  whole  existence? 

There  are,  it  seems,  two  ways  of  living,  so  widely 
different  that  they  are  spoken  of  as  if  they  belonged  to 
two  different  worlds.  "W  hich  are  these,  and  how  are  we 
to  know  them  ? 

At  first  this  seems  a  very  difficult  question  to  answer — 
at  least,  if  we  may  judge  from  the  infinite  variety  of 
answers  it  receives  from  those  we  ask  it  of.  All  who 
accept  the  Bible  as  their  rule  of  life  agree  in  saying  that 
the  Christian  must  not  be  worldly,  that  he  must  fight 
against  the  world  as  well  as  the  flesh  and  the  devil.  But 
when  we  ask  what  it  is  that  you  mean  by  being  worldly, 
what  a  Babel  of  contending  answers  do  we  receive  !  To 
one  man  the  world  and  worldliness  mean  one  thing,  to 
another  something  quite  different.    Each  man  draws  some 


182  THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD. 


line  for  himself  beyond  which  all  is  forbidden,  within  which 
all  is  allowed.  In  the  matter  of  amusements,  for  instance, 
one  draws  it  at  the  theatre,  another  at  the  ball-room, 
another  at  a  race-course,  another  at  a  card-table,  another 
at  a  novel.  It  has  even  been  drawn  at  some  particular 
fashion  or  texture  of  dress.  Literature,  recreation,  study, 
business,  all  have  their  various  degrees  and  shades  of 
worldliness. 

So  tbat  practically,  and  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  comes  to 
this,  that  the  world  and  worldliness  are  for  a  large  number 
of  worthy  and  well-meaning  people  just  that  pursuit,  that 
indulgence,  that  amusement  in  which  they  do  not  engage 
and  others  do.  The  world  they  are  to  shun  and  dread 
is,  in  one  word,  always  some  one  else's  world — never 
their  own.  Is  it  any  wonder,  then,  that  those  who  make 
no  profession  of  religion  whatever,  those  who  own  them- 
selves men  of  the  world  and  nothing  else,  laugh  at  dis- 
tinctions so  nice  and  varied  and  so  unpractical  as  these  ? 
Is  it  any  wonder  that  they  say  to  us,  "  It  will  be  time 
enough  for  us  to  forsake  the  world,  to  shun  its  ways,  to 
break  away  from  its  customs,  when  you  Christians  have 
agreed  amongst  yourselves  as  to  what  really  is  this  world 
that  we  are  to  shun.  "We  do  not  see  how,  nor  why,  your 
religious  world,  as  you  call  it,  is  any  better  than — nay, 
we  do  not  see,  on  your  own  showing,  wherein  it  is  really 
very  different  from  our  own.  Meanwhile  we  find  this 
world  in  which  we  live — our  world,  whatever  it  may  be, — 
suits  us  well  enough.  It  is  not  perfect,  perhaps,  but  we 
are  not  going,  at  any  rate,  to  give  it  up  until  you  show 
us  why  we  should  do  so,  and  until  you  show  us  some 
other  and  better  one  to  which  we  may  migrate  from 
our  own." 

And  yet  they  who  so  speak  must  be  mistaken — there 
are,  there  must  be,  if  we  believe  what  Christ  and  His 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD.  183 


Apostles  tell  us,  still  the  two  worlds  essentially  distinct 
and  apart ;  and  if  so,  it  must  of  all  things  concern  us  to 
understand  wherein  they  differ,  and  why  one  should  be  in 
friendship,  the  other  in  enmity  with  God. 

Now,  perhaps  we  shall  most  readily  understand  this 
question  if,  for  the  moment,  we  put  ourselves  back  at  that 
point  when,  as  we  have  seen,  men  did  easily  understand 
it ;  if  we  imagine  ourselves  living  in  those  days  when 
Christendom  was  one  distinctly  visible  world  and  heathen- 
dom another.  Let  us  see  what  it  was  that  caused  such 
great  difference  and  contrast  between  these  two  ;  why  it 
was  that  the  one  was  all  darkness  and  the  other  all  light ; 
one  a  kingdom  of  death,  and  the  other  a  kingdom  of  life. 

Another  Apostle  shall  tell  us  this.  St.  Paul,  in  the 
terrible  description  of  the  heathendom  of  his  day,  with 
which  he  begins  his  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  tells  us  that 
the  cause  of  all  its  misery  and  sin  was  this,  "  that  when 
men  knew  God  they  glorified  him  not  as  God."  They 
changed  His  truth  into  a  lie.  They  worshipped  and 
served  the  creature  more  than  the  Creator.  It  was  a 
mistake,  a  terrible  mistake,  they  had  made  as  to  the 
nature  of  the  world  in  which  they  lived  that  had  caused 
all  this  misery.  They  made  it  their  God,  their  only  and 
supreme  good.  They  worshipped  it,  they  served  it ;  and 
its  worship  and  service  were  really  their  whole  religion. 

Many  as  the  gods  of  the  heathen  were,  they  were,  each 
and  all  of  them,  only  so  many  forms  in  which  men 
worshipped  themselves,  their  possessions,  their  plea- 
sures, their  occupations,  their  passions.  The  gods  of  the 
heathen,  by  whatever  name  they  called  them,  were,  each 
and  all  of  them,  some  created  thing,  which  they  had  come 
to  worship  instead  of  God.  They  worshipped  Power, 
Knowledge,  Wealth,  Pleasure,  Force,  Passion,  Art,  by 


184 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD. 


many  names,  under  many  forms ;  but  they  all  meant  the 
same  thing,  namely,  something  God  had  made  and  given 
to  man  put  in  God's  place  and  made  man's  God,  made  the" 
object  of  his  trust,  of  his  faith,  his  service.  They  lived 
for  these  things  ;  they  knew  of  nothing  higher  or  better. 
And  these  being  all  of  them  creatures  of  this  world,  those 
who  worshipped  and  served  them  were  necessarily,  there- 
fore, living  for  this  world,  for  this  present  life  only.  To 
be  powerful,  wise,  happy  in  this  world,  to  get  as  much  as 
each  one  could  of  its  good  things  and  to  keep  and  enjoy 
them  as  long  as  might  be,  this  was  all  they  asked  of  their 
gods,  all  they  cared  for  in  life.  They  had  lost  the  thought 
of  living  not  for  self  nor  for  this  life  only,  but  for  God 
and  for  their  fellow-men  for  His  sake.  They  had  lost  sight 
of  the  truth  that  all  these  things  they  worshipped  were 
not  good  or  gods  in  themselves,  had  in  themselves  no 
power  to  make  men  happy,  were  only  good  for  men  so  far 
as  they  used  them  for  God's  glory,  because  that  is  man's 
only  true  happiness. 

And  as  they  worshipped  these  so  they  served  them, 
that  is,  they  became  their  slaves  ;  they  lived  for  these  and 
these  only.  These  were  all  they  had  to  live  for.  That 
other  world  of  which  we  know,  that  eternal  life  which  is 
revealed  to  us  they  had  no  thought  of.  The  world  after 
death  was  for  them  the  shadowiest  and  gloomiest  of  things, 
a  dim,  unlovely  realm  where  ghosts  flitted  to  and  fro,  and 
sighed  for  the  substantial  joys  and  delights  of  the  world 
they  had  left  for  ever.  The  idea  of  sacrificing  anything 
in  this  life  for  such  a  life  as  that  never  entered  their 
minds. 

And  then,  as  this  present  life  was  all  in  all  to  them, 
as  they  cared  for  no  other,  their  one  aim  was  to  have  and 
hold  as  much  of  it  as  they  could  grasp  or  snatch  from 
others.    Like  hungry  guests  at  an  ill-spread  banquet  they 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD. 


185 


crowded  and  strove  for  place  and  food,  and  the  strong 
trampled  down  the  weak,  the  rich  were  gorged  and  the 
poor  were  sent  empty  away.  And  so  the  hungry  hated 
those  who  feasted,  and  strife,  and  war,  and  cruelty  filled 
the  whole  earth  with  violence.  Every  one  was  for  self 
and  none  for  another,  or  for  God.  This  it  was  that  made 
their  life  increasingly  base,  selfish,  and  therefore  unhappy, 
and  all  this  came  from  trying  to  live  in  God's  world 
without  God.    This  was  their  worldliness  ! 

What  then  was  the  unworldliness  of  the  Christian  in 
Christ's  kingdom  ?  It  was  that  His  rule  of  life  was  just 
the  reverse  of  this.  It  was,  "  Worship  and  serve  thy 
Creator  rather  than  the  creature.  This  world  is  not  your 
good,  is  not  your  God  ;  not  by  its  bread  alone  does  man 
live,  but  by  every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth 
of  God.  This  world  is  God's  world.  He  is  the  maker  of 
it,  as  He  is  your  Maker  and  Redeemer.  But  for  you  He 
has  provided  something  better,  more  precious  than  any 
created  thing,  more  precious  than  all  creation — even 
Himself.  Give  thyself  to  Him,  live  for  Him,  serve  Him, 
sacrifice  to  Him,  if  need  be,  all  or  any  of  those  possessions, 
those  gifts,  those  pleasures  which  He  has  given  thee. 
Pass  through  this  world  as  a  stranger  and  a  pilgrim  in  it, 
using  it,  not  serving  it ;  in  it,  but  not  of  it ;  not  depending 
on  it  for  happiness,  disregarding  its  claims,  defying  its 
rules,  whenever  these  are  not  also  God's.  Do  this  and 
thou  shalt  have  eternal  life,  that  other  life,  that  other 
world  which  He  has  promised  to  those  who  do  this — not 
dim  and  shadowy,  cold  and  repellent,  but  glorious,  beau- 
tiful, full  of  satisfying  joys  and  abiding  pleasures  that 
are  at  His  right  hand  for  ever." 

It  was  in  the  power  of  this  new  life  that  Christendom 
went  forth  to  overcome  the  world.  It  was  in  the  might 
of  that  new  spirit  which  held  life  and  all  life's  joys  and 


186 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  "WORLD. 


treasures  as  nothing  compared  with,  the  love  and  the 
favour  of  God,  that  men  went  forth  to  strive,  to  suffer, 
to  die  if  need  were,  if  only  they  might  live  for  ever  with 
God.  It  was  this  that  made  men  brave,  pure,  self-denying, 
self-sacrificing.  It  was  this  that  made  them  pitiful,  un- 
selfish, loving,  helpful,  no  longer  fiercely  striving  for  this 
world's  possessions  (why  should  they,  when  they  had 
another  world  to  live  in  for  ever  ?) — no  longer  hateful  and 
hating  one  another,  for  self-love  and  the  selfish  and  cruel 
life  it  causes  were  cast  out  by  a  deeper  passion,  even  by 
the  love  of  God.  This  was  the  unworldliness  of  the 
Kingdom  of  Christ  then,  and  this  it  should  be  still  and 
now.  To  be  unworldly  is  simply  not  to  make  the  world 
nor  any  part  of  it  our  supreme  and  only  good,  nor  success 
nor  joy  in  it  our  only  aim  in  life.  To  be  worldly  is  to  do 
this.  The  world  for  us,  then,  is  not  any  particular  place, 
or  pursuit,  or  pleasure,  or  occupation.  It  is  all  of,  any 
of,  these  from  which  we  have  banished  God.  It  is  any 
realm  or  domain  of  life  into  which  the  thought  of  His 
presence  does  not  enter  and  abide.  It  is  nothing  else 
than  that  far  country  which  is  yet  so  near  to  every  one  of 
us,  that  country,  far  from  our  Father's  home  and  yet 
close  to  our  feet  at  every  turn,  into  which  we  enter  when- 
ever we  take  our  portion  of  goods  and  seek  to  have  and 
enjoy  it  apart  from  the  Father  who  gave  it  us. 

And  now  we  see  how  simple  and  easy,  in  principle  at 
least,  is  that  distinction  which  we  found  at  first  so  hard 
to  realise.  The  question  for  us  is  never  where  we  are,  but 
what  we  are.  We  cannot  fence  off  any  part  of  life  and 
say,  on  this  side  is  worldliness,  on  that  it  is  not.  To 
attempt  this  is  about  as  wise  and  hopeful  as  it  would  be 
to  build  a  wall  around  us  in  order  to  keep  out  a  fog  or  a 
pestilence.    The  evil  thing  is  in  the  air.    It  rises  up  all 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD. 


187 


round  us,  it  penetrates  within  our  artificial  defences  and 
limits,  it  enters  into  our  homes,  it  fills  our  churches,  it 
fans  the  leaves  of  our  Bibles,  it  mingles  with  the  very 
breath  of  our  prayers ;  it  is  in  one  word  the  spirit  of  the 
world  that  we  have  to  dread,  and  that  is  everywhere. 
And  this  can  only  be  cast  out  by  the  spirit  of  that  other 
world  and  that  other  life  to  which  God  calls  us,  and 
which  He  is  ever  ready  to  give  us,  that  spirit  which,  if 
we  yield  to  it,  will  so  "  transform  us  in  the  renewing  of 
our  mind  "  that  our  whole  purpose  and  plan  of  life  shall 
be  changed  once  and  for  ever,  and  shall  become,  instead 
of  life  for  this  world  and  for  ourselves  only,  life  for  God, 
and  God  in  all  our  life. 

Such  a  rule,  it  is  clear,  frees  us  at  once  from  all  those 
petty  difficulties  of  detail  with  which  this  question  seemed 
at  first  beset.  It  is  not  a  set  of  precepts  as  to  this  or 
that,  as  to  when  and  how  and  where ;  it  is  a  broad, 
abiding,  simple  principle. 

How  it  shall  be  applied  must  vary  with  the  circum- 
stances of  each  individual  life.  What  proves  hurtful  to 
one  man's  spiritual  life  may  not  be  so  to  another's.  The 
pleasures  that  tempt  one  man  prove  no  temptation  to  ano- 
ther, what  to  one  is  most  exciting  dissipation  to  another  is 
mere  wearisome  custom.  But  for  all  alike  the  same  prin- 
ciple applies :  avoid  that  which  you  find  is  drawing  you 
away  from  God  ;  shrink  from  that  which  you  find  is 
putting  itself  for  you  in  the  place  of  God.  That  is  for 
you,  whatever  it  may  be  for  another,  the  world  which  you 
are  to  shun,  and  its  friendship  is  and  ever  must  be  enmity 
against  God. 

To  forget  this  broad,,  deep,  searching  rule,  and  to 
endeavour  to  avoid  worldliness  by  measuring  off  some 
portion  of  this  world's  life,  and  dwelling  within  it,  isolated 


188  THE  CHUECH  AND  THE  WORLD. 


and  apart  from  all  the  rest,  is  to  make  a  double  mistake 
and  to  do  a  double  injury,  to  ourselves  first,  and  tben  to 
our  fellow-men.  To  ourselves,  because  not  only  do  we 
not  escape  tbe  spirit  of  worldliness  by  tbus  withdrawing 
ourselves  within  purely  artificial  limits  and  defences,  but 
we  often  intensify  it.  There  is  no  subtler,  no  deadlier 
form  of  worldliness  than  that  which  haunts,  with  its  mala- 
rious influence,  the  little  sets  and  coteries  in  which  those 
who  deem  the  world  of  common  life  all  unworthy  of  them 
gather  themselves  together,  thanking  God  that  they  are 
not  as  other  men  are,  and  yet  standing  farther  off  from 
Him,  in  their  spiritual  pride  and  Pharisaism,  than  the 
mere  man  of  the  world  whom  they  look  down  upon,  ay, 
even  though  he  has  not  yet  learned  to  smite  upon  his 
breast  and  cry,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner."  Their 
"religious  world,"  as  they  with  an  unconscious  irony  so 
often  call  it,  is  in  very  truth  a  world  which  they  worship, 
a  world  whose  favour  they  court,  whose  rules  they  follow 
with  a  slavish,  timid  obedience,  and  which  is  for  them  an 
idol  that  they  serve  with  a  truly  idolatrous  veneration. 

Not  to  ourselves  only,  however,  is  such  isolation  inju- 
rious, but  to  others  also.  To  the  world  around  us  such  a 
setting  up  of  an  artificially  religious  territory  must  prove 
seriously  hurtful.  For  in  proportion  as  the  citizens  of 
the  other  world  withdraw  themselves  from  this  present 
one,  in  the  same  proportion  does  the  world  they  withdraw 
from  grow  more  and  more  worldly. 

The  disciples  of  Christ  are  the  salt  of  the  earth,  but  if 
the  salt  be  withdrawn  the  earth  it  should  have  preserved 
grows  rapidly  corrupt.  They  are  the  light  of  the  world. 
But  if  the  light,  instead  of  shining  out  into  all  the  house, 
is  hidden  under  the  bushel  of  some  close-fitting  sectarian 
covering,  how  great  will  be  the  darkness  that  will  spread 
itself  around !    The  world  of  ungodliness,  left  thus  to- 


THE  CHUECH  AND  THE  WORLD. 


189 


itself,  without  the  counteracting  forces,  the  restraining, 
purifying  influences  of  that  kingdom  of  God  which  should 
be  in  it  as  the  leaven  working  grain  upon  grain  through 
the  whole  mass,  turns  putrid  with  a  terrible  rapidity.  And 
so,  by  such  feeble  and  cowardly  withdrawal  of  the  Church 
from  the  world,  the  Church  and  the  world  both  suffer. 
The  Church  becomes  not  unworldly  but  worldly,  the 
world  becomes,  more  and  more,  the  devil's  world  instead 
of  God's. 

To  what  fearful  evils,  to  what  perversion  and  corruption 
of  religion  for  the  Church,  to  what  desperate  recklessness 
of  unclean  living  for  the  world  such  a  mistake  must  lead 
is  clearly  to  be  seen  in  those  ages  when  the  Church, 
appalled  at  the  evils,  the  crimes,  the  horrors  of  paganism, 
instead  of  contending  with  them  fled  from  them  far  away 
into  the  wilderness,  built  herself  homes  in  the  desert  and 
peopled  them  with  men  and  women  who  sought  to  lead 
in  safety,  far  from  all  sight  and  sound  of  evil,  what  they 
thought  was  the  religious  life — a  timid,  selfish  life  of  con- 
templation, and  fasting,  and  prayer,  and  praise,  but  not  a 
life  of  brave  enduring  effort  and  sacrifice  for  others'  good, 
not  the  life  that — deep-rooted  in  the  love  of  our  fellow- 
man,  nourished  by  the  joys  and  deepened  by  the  sympa- 
thies of  our  common  humanity — grows  strong,  and  fresh, 
and  free  beneath  the  open  sky  of  Heaven  and  the  approv- 
ing smile  of  God. 

No  wonder  that  religion,  thus  divorced  from  common 
life,  became  distorted,  one-sided,  fantastic,  superstitious, 
unreal.  No  wonder  that  the  common  life  of  men,  thus 
deprived  of  religion,  grew  fouler,  baser,  more  and  more 
monstrously  wicked,  until  at  last  the  sword  of  the  bar- 
barians, sent  in  judgment  that  yet  was  fraught  with 
mercy,  cleansed  the  world  of  its  worst  pollutions  and 


190 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  "WORLD. 


gave  men  back  the  sacred  fire  on  the  hearths  of  homes 
that,  though  rude  and  rough,  were  at  least  the  homes  of 
men  and  not  the  dens  and  sties  of  beasts.  Never,  since 
then,  has  the  fatal  experiment  of  trying  to  create  a  visible 
and  material  severance  between  the  two  worlds  of  divine 
and  human  life  been  tried  on  so  large  a  scale  or  with 
such  terrible  results.  But  never,  since  then,  has  it  been 
tried  upon  any  scale,  in  any  measure,  without  producing, 
in  sure  and  certain  proportion  to  the  extent  to  which  it 
has  been  tried,  the  like  result :  religion  enfeebled,  morality 
depraved,  society  degraded  and  debased. 

If  the  Church  of  Christ  is  to  keep  a  pure  and  undefiled 
religion,  to  maintain  a  true  and  high  morality,  to  save 
human  society  from  perishing  of  corruption,  it  must  live 
the  life  of  Cbrist  in  this  present  evil  world ;  it  must  go 
about,  as  He  went,  amongst  men,  amongst  all  sorts  and 
conditions  of  men,  doing  good,  healing  with  a  touch  at 
once  human  and  divine — human  in  its  sympathy,  divine 
in  its  power  and  purity — all  manner  of  diseases  ;  ever  in 
the  world  and  never  of  the  world,  never  conformed  to  it, 
ever  striving  to  transform  it  to  the  image  of  her  Lord. 

But,  if  we  do  this,  if  we  follow  this  rule  honestly,  what 
shall  we  lose,  what  shall  we  gain  ?  "What  we  shall  lose 
we  cannot  tell ;  possibly  much  in  this  life — pleasures, 
gains,  success,  friendship,  honours — we  may  lose  or  we 
may  not,  as  the  case  may  be.  What  we  shall  gain,  how- 
ever, is  certain :  we  gain  our  very  selves,  our  true,  our 
eternal  life.  Our  Lord  has  summed  up  this  question  of 
profit  and  loss  for  us  long  ago.  We  may  lose,  He  tells 
us,  the  whole  world,  but  we  must  gain  our  own  souls. 
What  shall  it  profit  us  to  lose  our  own  souls  and  gain  the 
whole  world  ? 

And  yet,  after  all,  do  we  lose  so  much  by  the  choice  ? 
Is  it  true  that  he  who  gives  up,  in  heart  and  purpose,  the 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD.  191 


world  for  God  does  always  lose  it  even  in  this  life  ? 
Surely  not  so.  For  when  did  man  ever  give  up  anything 
to  God  his  Father  that  he  did  not  receive  back  his  own 
gift  a  thousand  times  enriched  with  blessings  ?  "We  give 
ourselves  to  God  :  what  do  we  receive  back  ?  A  nobler, 
purer,  better  self,  enriched  with  all  the  powers  and  graces 
of  a  nobler  life  !  We  sacrifice  our  goods,  our  wealth,  our 
ambition,  to  God ;  we  get  back  a  contented  and  peaceful 
spirit  which  can  dispense  with  wealth  and  success,  and 
without  which  wealth  and  success  are  no  blessings  !  We 
discharge  the  duties  of  our  life  for  God,  and  there  comes 
into  these,  even  the  smallest  and  the  lowliest  of  them,  an 
interest,  a  dignity,  a  beauty,  unknown  before,  as  we  think 
of  each  one  of  these,  this  is  the  work  my  Father  has  given 
me  to  do.  We  give  those  we  love  to  Him,  dedicating 
and  training  them  for  LTim  ;  are  they  lost  to  us  even  when 
He  takes  them  from  us  ?  Are  they  not,  in  the  very  act 
of  that  taking,  given  us  back  in  the  assurance  of  their 
eternal  peace,  joy,  and  safety  in  His  presence  ?  Are  they 
not,  for  us,  from  that  hour,  treasures  laid  up  for  ever  in 
Heaven,  where  the  rust  and  moth  of  fretting  care  and 
change  come  never,  and  death  may  not  break  through  to 
steal  them  away  ? 

Nay,  the  material  world  itself,  this  beautiful  earth  on 
which  we  live,  is  it  made  for  us  less  or  more  beautiful 
when  we  have  learned  to  look  on  it  as  God's  handiwork 
and  God's  gift  to  man  ?  Surely,  as  we  do  so,  it  becomes 
for  us  glorified  and  beautified  with  that  "  light  that  never 
was  on  sea  or  land."  Surely  as  we  look  on  the  starry 
heavens,  as  we  walk  by  strath,  or  stream,  or  sea,  the 
heavens  above  shine  with  a  new  glory  as  they  sing,  "  The 
hand  that  made  us  is  divine  ;  "  the  earth  grows  lovelier 
as  it  testifies  that  it  and  the  fulness  of  it  are  the  Lord's. 
The  sea  has  in  its  ever-moaning  waters  an  under- song  of 


192 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD. 


joy  and  hope,  as  it  tells  of  Him  who  has  set  the  sands  for 
its  perpetual  boundary,  and  who  holdeth  its  wild  winds 
and  waves  in  the  hollow  of  His  hand. 

Yes,  if  there  is  a  sense  in  which  we  may  not  "  love  the 
world  nor  the  things  of  the  world,"  there  is  another,  a 
truer,  a  deeper  sense  in  which  we  may  love  them  all. 
The  same  Book  which  says  to  us  so  sternly,  "  Love  not  the 
world,"  says  to  us  also,  "  God  so  loved  the  world  "  that 
He  sent  His  Son  to  die  for  it.  That  world,  His,  our 
Father's,  created  by  His  power,  redeemed  by  His  love, 
that  world — in  Him,  for  Him,  with  Him — we  may  love ; 
and  that  world,  if  we  so  love  it,  we  shall  one  day  enjoy 
and  rule  over  with  Him  for  ever  and  for  ever  ! 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM  IN  THE  CHURCH 
OF  CORINTH. 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM  IN  THE  CHURCH  OF 
CORINTH. 


Preached  in  "Whitehall  Chapel,  Maech  11,  1888. 

' '  That  there  should  be  no  schism  in  the  body  ;  but  that  the  members 
should  have  the  same  care  one  for  another.  And  whether  one  member 
suffer,  all  the  members  suffer  with  it ;  or  one  member  be  honoured,  all 
the  members  rejoice  with  it." — I  Cor.  xii.  25,  26. 

THE  Church  of  Corinth,  when  St.  Paul  wrote  his  first 
Epistle  to  it,  was  threatened  by  a  serious  danger, 
which  seems  to  have  caused  its  founder  no  small  anxiety. 
It  was  the  danger  of  schism. 

Disunion  necessarily  tends  to  dissolution.  And  disso- 
lution, in  the  common  speech  of  men,  is  only  another 
word  for  death.  It  is  that  resolving  of  the  body  into  its 
component  elements,  no  longer  held  together  by  the 
uniting  principle  of  life,  which  is  to  us  the  one  absolutely 
certain  sign  that  life  has  departed  and  that  death  has 
taken  its  place.  The  rent  and  torn  body  dies.  The  house 
divided  against  itself  falls  into  shapeless  ruin.  The 
Church  distracted  by  schisms  is  in  imminent  peril  of  like 
destruction.  Well,  therefore,  might  the  Apostle  view  with 
alarm  the  first  tokens  of  this  deadly  disease  in  this  society 
which  he  had  so  lately  founded.  When  he  hears  that 
there  are  contentions  there,  he  writes  to  them  an  earnest 
and  solemn  appeal  for  unity.  As  soon  as  he  has  written 
his  first  words  of  greeting,  as  if  this  thought  were  upper- 
most in  his  mind,  he  breaks  out  with  a  beseeching 


196 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


entreaty  in  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  that  they 
would  all  think  the  same  thing,  and  be  all  joined  in  the 
same  minds,  "  that  there  be  no  divisions  amongst  them." 
And  again,  returning  to  this  theme,  he  devotes  nearly  the 
■whole  of  one  chapter  to  an  elaborate  argument  against 
schism,  and  a  warning  of  the  evils  which  must  flow  from 
it.  His  desire  and  prayer  is,  that  there  be  no  "  schism  in 
the  body." 

When  we  compare,  however,  the  two  places  in  which 
the  Apostle,  in  this  Epistle,  deals  with  this  subject,  we  see 
at  once  that  he  is  dealing  with  two  quite  different  forms 
of  schism.  In  the  former,  St.  Paul  is  dealing  with  schism 
in  the  form  of  contending  parties ;  in  the  latter,  with 
schism  in  the  form  of  rival  and  contending  classes.  In 
the  one,  the  evil  thing  takes  the  form  of  party  spirit, 
resulting  in  wrangling  and  separating  sects,  each  called 
by  the  name  of  some  chosen  leader.  But  in  the  other  it 
takes  the  form  of  estrangement  and  hostility  between 
ranks  and  orders  in  tbe  Church — the  higher  placed  look- 
ing contemptuously  on  those  below  them ;  the  lower 
looking  repiningly  and  enviously  on  those  above  them — 
the  one  scornfully  proclaiming  to  its  inferior,  "  I  have  no 
need  of  thee  ;  "  and  the  other,  conscious  of  its  inferiority, 
exclaiming,  "  I  am  not  of  the  body." 

The  source  of  both  these  forms  of  evil  is,  of  course,  the 
same.  It  is  the  selfishness  of  human  nature  displaying 
itself — in  the  one  case  in  the  war  of  party  against  party, 
in  the  other  of  class  against  class,  but  each  influenced  by 
the  same  anti-Christian  spirit  of  self-assertion  as  opposed 
to  the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice ;  each  preferring  the  triumph 
of  his  party  or  his  order  to  the  unity  of  the  body,  and  to 
the  express  command  and  prayer  of  its  Head. 

The  manifestations  of  this  evil,  however,  though  spring- 
ing from  the  same  root,  are,  as  we  have  seen,  different 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


197 


and  distinct.  And  so,  too,  in  a  very  remarkable  degree, 
is  the  manner  in  which  St.  Paul  deals  with  them.  With 
the  first,  that  of  parties  and  party  spirit  in  the  Church, 
he  deals  briefly,  almost  contemptuously.  It  seems  to  him 
enough  to  ask  these  Paulites  and  Apollosites  and  Christites 
— "  Is  Christ  divided  ?  Was  Apollos  crucified  for  you  ? 
Were  ye  baptised  in  the  name  of  Paul?"  Sectarianism 
seems  to  him  a  thing  so  manifestly  opposed  to  the  very 
idea  of  the  Church  of  Christ,  that  he  seems  to  think  it 
sufficiently  dealt  with  by  the  mention  of  the  one  Lord, 
one  Faith,  one  Baptism,  which  constituted  the  unity  of 
the  Church,  which  these  sectarians  were  threatening  to 
destroy. 

Quite  otherwise  does  he  deal  with  the  schisms  and 
separations  of  classes  in  the  Church.  Against  these  he 
directs  a  long,  sustained,  and  closely-reasoned  argument, 
in  which  he  sets  forth  the  true  ideal  of  the  Church  of 
Christ,  and  shows  how  utterly  fatal  to  this,  how  essen- 
tially un- Christian  and  an  ti- Christian,  is  the  war  of  classes 
which  he  deprecates.  He  enforces  this  argument  with 
that  wealth  of  illustration,  that  dramatic  force  and  vigour 
that  always  indicate  that  the  spirit  of  the  writer  or 
speaker  is  deeply  stirred  within  him.  The  idea  of  the 
Church  as  a  body,  every  member  of  which  is  united  by 
organic  union  with  all  the  rest,  each  existing  for  all  and 
all  for  each,  nourished  by  the  same  life-blood,  animated 
by  the  same  vital  power,  united  and  subordinated  to  the 
one  head  ;  hurt,  therefore,  by  the  suffering,  helped  by  the 
well-being  of  each  and  of  all,  is  set  by  him  before  the 
Corinthians  as  of  the  very  essence  of  their  new  society. 
And  then  this  idea  is,  as  it  were,  turned  round  and  round, 
enforced,  illustrated,  applied,  so  that  all  may  fully  under- 
stand it,  and  may  see  how  unreconcilable  it  is  with  those 
ambitious  envyings  and  strifes,  with  which  he  contrasts 


198 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


it ;  how  unnatural,  and  therefore  how  destructive  ulti- 
mately to  the  existence  of  such  a  body  these  must  be. 

Clearly,  for  some  reason  or  another,  St.  Paul  was  more 
afraid  of  the  war  of  classes  than  of  the  war  of  parties  in 
the  Church  of  Corinth.    The  reason  is  worth  inquiring 
into,  for  the  manner  in  which  St.  Paul  dealt  with  these 
two  forms  of  schism  respectively  is  certainly  not  one  which 
we,  from  our  own  experience,  would  have  anticipated. 
If  any  one  of  us  were  called  on  now  to  address  a  pastoral 
warning  to  any  Church  against  the  evils  of  schism,  we 
would  undoubtedly  give  first  place  in  it  to  the  evils  of 
religions  parties  and  party  spirit.    Probably  we  should 
most  of  us  be  disposed  to  regard  social  divisions  as  more 
the  curse  of  the  State  than  of  the  Church,  and  though  not 
indifferent  to  these,  to  hold  that  first  and  before  all  we 
should  aim  at  the  healing  of  party  divisions  and  animosi- 
ties within  the  Church,  were  it  only  that  she  might  the 
better  help  to  heal  the  social  strifes  of  the  State.  Why, 
then,  does  St.  Paul  exactly  reverse  this  order  of  import- 
ance and  urgency  in  which  we  should  place  these  two 
things  £    Why  does  he  dwell  so  much  more  strongly,  and 
at  so  much  greater  length,  on  the  evils  of  social  than  on 
those  of  religious  schism  ?    The  reason  is,  I  think,  this, 
that  the  Apostles  were  not  merely  the  teachers  of  a  new 
faith,  they  were  the  leaders  of  a  great  social  revolution. 
The  accusation  brought  against  them  was,  that  they  were 
"turning  the  world  upside  down,"  and  the  accusation  was 
fully  justified  by  facts.    The  Apostles  of  Jesus  Christ  were 
the  authors  of  the  mightiest  and  most  wide-spread  social 
change  the  world  has  ever  known.    They  overthrew 
existing  institutions,  they  repealed  old  laws,  changed  old 
customs,  swept  away  old  abuses,  redressed  old  wrongs ; 
they  introduced  new  institutions,  new  laws,  new  customs  ; 
they  reconstructed  society  from  its  very  foundations,  and 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


199^ 


stamped  on  Christendom  not  only  a  new  religion,  but  a 
new  social  and  even  political  character,  which,  commenc- 
ing in  their  day,  has  lasted  until  now. 

And  these  great  social  changes  were  effected  mainly  by 
the  proclamation  of  three  new  ideas,  which  Christianity 
from  the  first  embodied  in  its  system,  and  which  were 
ever  on  the  lips  of  its  first  teachers  :  these  were,  Liberty, 
Equality,  Fraternity.  Not  in  the  eighteenth  but  in  the 
first  century  were  these  words  first  preached  to  men. 
The  apostles  of  the  French  Revolution  who  produced 
them  as  their  great  discovery  had  all  unconsciously 
borrowed  them  from  the  religion  they  despised  and 
reviled.  They  are,  indeed,  essentially  religious  ideas, 
incapable  of  complete  realisation  in  any  merely  political 
society,  and  capable  of  full  and  complete  realisation  only 
in  that  society  which  gave  them  birth.  That  the  first 
teachers  of  Christianity  preached  these,  and  preached  them 
earnestly  and  everywhere,  we  know  from  their  writings. 
"  Ye  shall  know  the  truth,  and  the  truth  shall  make  you 
free,"  was  the  promise  of  the  Founder  of  Christianity  to 
His  people.  "  The  glorious  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God," 
was  the  boast  and  the  rejoicing  of  His  Apostles.  "  Where 
the  Spirit  of  God  is,  there  is  liberty,"  were  the  words  in 
which  the  distinctive  mark  of  the  new  spiritual  Kingdom, 
the  test  and  token  of  the  Divine  presence  within  her, 
was  defined. 

Equality,  too,  was  to  be  another  note  of  this  Kingdom, 
distinguishing  it  from  all  other  kingdoms  hitherto  known 
amongst  men.  "  God  is  no  respecter  of  persons,"  were 
the  words  with  which  its  first  converts  from  heathendom 
were  welcomed.  "  In  Christ  Jesus  neither  Jew  nor  Greek, 
Barbarian,  Scythian,  bond  nor  free,"  were  the  words 
which  proclaimed  the  abolition  of  all  distinctions  of  race, 
or  rank,  or  class,  lost  and  merged  for  ever  after  in  the  one 


200 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


common  citizenship  of  all  in  a  Kingdom  in  which  rank 
should  give  no  supremacy,  wealth  no  superiority  ;  a  King- 
dom in  which  a  fisherman  might  give  laws  to  a  Caesar, 
and  a  slave  be  the  ruler  of  his  master. 

A  new  brotherhood,  too,  appeared  for  the  first  time 
amongst  men,  in  which  all  of  every  class  and  of  every 
nation  were  alike  and  equally  brethren,  because  all  were 
equally  and  alike  sons  of  one  common  Father  ;  a  brother- 
hood of  humanity  resting  on  its  only  true  basis — the 
Fatherhood  of  God.  "We  of  this  day,  to  whom  these  ideas 
are  familiar,  can  hardly  realise  how  strange,  how  new, 
they  must  have  seemed  to  those  who  heard  them  for  the 
first  time.  What  a  marvellous  power  of  attraction  they 
must  have  had  in  a  world,  the  greater  part  of  which  was 
groaning  under  the  tyranny  of  one  man ;  a  world  that 
had  become  one  vast  prison  from  which  none  could  hope 
to  escape ;  a  world  where  the  slave  was  the  thing,  the 
chattel,  of  his  owner,  where  the  plebeian  was  the  despised 
client  of  his  patrician  lord  ;  a  world  of  cruel,  voluptuous 
selfishness,  where  suffering  found  no  pity,  and  want  no 
alleviation ;  a  world  full  of  envy,  murder,  hatred,  deceit, 
malignity ;  a  world  where  men  were  without  natural 
affection,  implacable,  unmerciful,  hateful,  and  hating  one 
another !  Into  such  a  world  came  the  new  Kingdom  of 
Christ,  the  Kingdom  of  Him  who  was  despised  and  rejected 
of  men, — one  of  the  people,  poor,  and  preaching  a  gospel 
for  the  poor,  blessing  poverty  and  disparaging  wealth, 
proclaiming  Himself  a  Son  of  man  ;  the  brother,  therefore, 
of  every  human  being  upon  earth  ;  and  proclaiming,  too, 
the  equal  preciousness  in  His  sight  of  all  the  souls  for 
which  He  came  to  die.  How  eagerly,  how  hopefully, 
with  what  joyful  anticipation  of  redress  within  the  new 
society  for  all  the  evils  under  which  they  were  suffering 
in  the  old,  must  men  have  crowded  round  the  heralds  of 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


201 


His  Kingdom,  the  preachers  of  His  good  news  for  the 
poor,  and  the  sorrowful,  and  the  outcast  amongst  men  ! 
Deep  and  strong  must  have  been  the  ferment  of  these  new 
ideas  in  the  new  society  the  Apostles  were  founding,  and 
anxiously  must  the  Apostles  have  watched  their  working 
in  order  to  guard  against  the  errors  and  excesses  which 
are  sure  to  accompany  the  revelation  of  all  new  ideas 
that  deeply  stir  the  hearts  of  men ;  doubting  whether 
even  the  new  bottles  into  which  they  were  pouring  this 
new  wine  could  stand  the  strain  of  its  fermentation. 
That  such  errors  did  arise,  that  such  excesses  did  break 
out  in  the  early  Church,  we  know,  and  we  know,  too, 
what  anxiety  they  caused  to  its  early  teachers,  and  con- 
spicuously to  the  greatest  and  most  statesmanlike  of  them 
all,  St.  Paul.     "When  we  hear  him,  for  instance,  warning 
the  Galatians  that,  though  free,  they  were  not  to  "  use 
their  liberty  for  a  cloak  of  maliciousness,"  or  telling  the 
Romans  that  they  are  set  free  only  that  they  may  become 
"  slaves  unto  righteousness,"  we  listen  to  warnings  against 
the  abuse  of  the  doctrine  of  Christian  liberty.    "When  we 
listen  to  the  command  to  the  new  brotherhood  that  its 
members  should  "  honour  all  men,"  we  hear  the  warning 
against  the  subtle  selfishness  that  is  the  great  danger  of 
all  associations  and  all  brotherhoods — the  narrowing  of 
the  love  that  is  due  to  all,  within  the  limits  of  the  church 
or  the  sect.    And  so  in  this  argument  addressed  to  the 
Corinthians,  we  hear  a  warning  against  the  misunder- 
standing and  the  consequent  abuse  of  the  great  doctrine 
of  equality,  which  was  already  giving  rise  to  serious  evils, 
and  a  setting  forth,  by  contrast  with  it,  of  the  true  and 
only  sense  in  which  equality  can  be  said  to  be  the  note  of 
the  Kingdom  of  Christ. 

Let  us  consider,  then,  a  little  more  closely  this  first 
instance  of  revolt  against  inequality  in  the  Christian 


202 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


Church.  The  Corinthian  converts  were  evidently  sur- 
prised and  dissatisfied  with  the  unequal  distribution  of 
rank  and  office  in  the  Christian  Church.  They  found 
themselves  members  of  a  society  in  which  there  existed 
gradation  of  office  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  They 
found  the  ruling  head,  the  guiding  eye,  the  toiling  hand, 
the  sustaining  feet,  of  a  highly  complex  organism.  They 
found  that  in  this  body  there  were  "  members  to  honour 
and  members  to  dishonour  ;  "  members  so  precious  that  the 
body  could  not  survive  their  loss,  and  others  so  insignifi- 
cant that  it  would  scarce  be  conscious  of  their  loss.  And 
they  found  that  all  this  was  ordered  and  appointed  by  an 
absolute  and  seemingly  arbitrary  will.  "  God  had  set  in 
the  Church,  first,  apostles;  secondarily,  prophets ;  thirdly, 
teachers;  after  that,  miracles;  then,  gifts  of  healings, 
helps,  diversities  of  tongues."  And  they  found,  more- 
over, that  this  diversity  of  office  sprang  out  of  original 
diversity  of  gifts.  To  one  is  "  given  by  the  Spirit  the 
word  of  wisdom ;  to  another  the  word  of  knowledge  ;  to 
another  the  gift  of  healing ;  to  another  the  working  of 
miracles ;  "  and  so  on.  And  these  diversities  of  gifts  led 
to  "  diversities  of  administration  " — the  office  being  deter- 
mined always  by  the  possession  of  the  gift. 

They  found,  that  is  to  say,  a  seemingly  arbitrary  dis- 
tribution of  what  might  be  termed  spiritual  birth-gifts 
bestowed  on  each  convert  as  he  entered  into  the  new 
society.  Baptism  brought  with  it,  as  it  were,  a  birthright 
to  certain  offices.  The  higher  the  gift,  the  higher  the 
office,  but  gift  and  office  were  bestowed  upon  each  person 
absolutely  as  God  willed.  And  this  it  was  which  seemed 
to  have  so  offended  these  converts  from  the  old  world  to 
the  new.  In  the  old  order  which  they  were  leaving  they 
could  understand  the  existence  of  such  irregularities. 
They  had  seemed  to  them  always  natural,  inevitable ; 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


203 


they  could  not  conceive  of  any  natural  society  without 
them.  But  this  was  a  supernatural  society,  in  which  God 
was  making  all  things  new.  Why  should  these  old-world 
distinctions  obtain  here  ?  If  it  be  the  common  Father 
who  is  distributing  gifts  to  His  children,  why  should  He 
distribute  them  so  unequally  ?  Why  should  one  have  so 
much  and  another  so  little  ?  How  is  this  consistent  with 
our  equal  relation  to  Him  and  our  equal  share  in  His 
love  ?  Naturally,  therefore,  did  this  inequality  of  rank 
and  privilege  in  the  new  brotherhood  give  rise  on  the  one 
hand  to  the  envy  of  the  lowly,  and  on  the  other  to  the 
pride  of  the  highly  placed.  The  one,  envious,  dissatisfied, 
exclaiming  to  his  brother,  "  If  I  am  not  as  thou  art,  I  am 
not  of  the  body"  ;  the  other,  in  the  exclusive  pride  of 
his  privilege,  replying,  "  I  have  no  need  of  thee."  And, 
naturally,  too,  would  there  follow  from  this  separation, 
estrangement,  strife  at  last  of  class  with  class  and  rank 
against  rank.  And  St.  Paul,  beholding  this,  trembled. 
There  was  schism  in  the  body. 

And  now  let  us  see  how  St.  Paul  dealt  with  this  schism. 
He  does  so,  in  the  first  place,  by  reminding  them  that 
this  inequality  is  of  Divine  appointment.  The  Holy 
Spirit  of  God,  he  tells  them,  has  "  divided  to  every  man 
severally  as  he  willed."  It  is  the  Father's  will  which  has 
assigned  to  each,  both  his  place  and  the  gifts  which 
qualify  him  for  the  place.  The  whole  is  of  His  ordering, 
and  of  His  alone.  For  those  who  realise  the  true  idea  of 
a  Divine  brotherhood,  complaint  and  discontent  is  by  such 
a  declaration  at  once  silenced,  and  that  not  merely  because 
they  owe  obedience  to  the  Father's  will,  but  because  they 
have  a  perfect  assurance  of  the  Father's  love.  The  place 
which  He  has  appointed,  the  gift  He  has  bestowed  on  any 
one  of  them  in  His  Church,  must  be  for  him  the  best. 
There  and  not  elsewhere,  thus  and  not  otherwise,  can  he 


204 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


best  accomplish  the  true  end  of  his  being,  which  is  to 
glorify  God  and  be  happy  with  Him  for  ever  hereafter. 
Such  a  thought  checks  at  once  the  selfish  pride  of  the 
brother  of  high  degree,  and  the  selfish  envy  of  the  brother 
of  low  degree.  To  the  one  it  says,  you  are  of  the  body, 
as  truly,  as  really  so,  as  the  most  honoured  and  high- 
placed  member  of  it  is,  and  your  place  in  it  is  chosen  for 
you  by  your  Father's  love.  To  the  other  it  says,  you  are 
where  you  and  what  you  are  only  by  your  Father's  will. 
What  hast  thou  that  thou  didst  not  receive  ?  Who  art 
thou,  mere  creature,  as  thy  lowlier  brother  is,  of  His 
sovereign  grace,  that  thou  shouldst  exalt  thyself  as  if  it 
were  for  thy  merit,  or  from  any  special  affection  for  thee, 
that  He  has  chosen  thee  to  fill  the  place  thou  holdest  ? 
Say  not,  then,  to  your  brother,  I  have  no  need  of  thee, 
seeing  that  his  Lord  and  yours  has  need  of  him  for  the 
common  work  on  which  you  and  he  are  engaged. 

But  in  the  next  place,  the  Apostle  goes  on  to  show  the 
Corinthians  how  this  unequal  order  is  not  a  merely  arbi- 
trary appointment,  but  one  essential  to  the  welfare  of  the 
Church.  That  Church,  he  tells  them,  is  a  body,  and  to 
the  very  idea  of  a  body,  as  a  living  organism,  diversity  of 
function,  and,  therefore,  diversity  of  membership,  is  essen- 
tial. A  body  without  members  is  hardly  conceivable.  It 
is  found,  if  it  ever  is  found,  only  in  the  most  rudimentary 
forms  of  existence.  And  the  higher  the  order  to  which 
the  living  thing  belongs,  the  greater  the  complexity  of 
the  organism  ;  the  greater,  that  is  to  say,  the  diversity, 
and,  therefore,  the  greater  the  inequality  of  its  members. 
All  members  cannot  have  the  same  function,  nor  can  each 
function  be  equally  important  to  the  whole  body.  Some 
are  necessary  to  its  being,  some  only  to  its  well-being. 
Some  there  are  whose  functions  are  so  small  or  so  trifling 
that  they  are  scarcely  discernible ;  we  hardly  know  why 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


205 


they  should  be  there,  or  what  the  body  would  lose  by 
their  removal.  Nevertheless,  they  are  there,  and  in  this 
divinely-constituted  organism,  they  are  not  there  without 
a  cause.  Each  must  in  some  way  contribute  to  the  life, 
or  the  health,  or  the  happiness  of  the  whole,  else  were  it 
not  in  the  body  ;  members  of  the  body  that  seem  to  us 
more  feeble  being,  nevertheless,  in  some  respects  neces- 
sary. And  this  thought  tends  to  check  all  tendency  to 
schism,  for  it  sets  before  each  one  of  the  members  in  the 
body  the  thought  of  something  higher  and  nobler  than 
himself,  even  that  body  of  which  he  forms  a  part.  It  says 
to  each  in  turn,  forget  you  your  greatness,  forget  you  your 
littleness,  in  the  thought  of  the  infinitely  greater  import- 
ance of  that  body  of  Christ  your  Lord  of  which  you  are  a 
part.  Let  pride  and  envy  alike  vanish  from  your  hearts 
in  the  thought  of  the  greatness  and  the  glory  of  Him  who 
is  the  Head  of  the  body,  and  to  whom  every  member  of 
it  is  equally  joined,  and  whose  service,  whether  in  the 
highest  or  the  meanest  capacity,  is  a  high  and  undeserved 
honour  to  every  one  engaged  in  it. 

There  is,  however,  yet  another  dissuasive  from  schism, 
more  powerful  by  far  than  the  thought  either  of  the  Divine 
will  which  has  ordered,  or  the  conditions  of  the  body 
which  require,  the  inequality  that  promotes  disunion.  It 
is  the  thought  of  the  unity  which,  spite  of  this  diversity 
joins  these  together  one  and  all.  "  Ye  being  many  mem- 
bers are  one  body."  "  The  whole  body  fitly  joined  toge- 
ther, and  compacted  by  that  which  every  joint  supplieth, 
according  to  the  effectual  working  in  the  measure  of  every 
part,  maketh  increase  of  the  body  unto  the  edifying  of 
itself  in  love."  Christians  are,  therefore,  one,  not  merely 
by  the  oneness  of  their  faith,  nor  yet  by  that  oneness  of 
aim  and  purpose  such  as  binds  together  other  societies, 
but  by  the  unity  of  one  common  life  which  lives  in  each, 


206 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


and  is  communicated  from  each  to  all,  and  from  all  to 
each.  This  is  not  the  artificial  unit}1,  of  association,  but 
the  organic  unity  of  a  living  body,  in  which  the  life  and 
vigour  of  the  whole  strengthens  that  of  each  member,  and 
that  of  each  member  strengthens  the  whole  ;  in  which,  if 
one  member  suffer,  all  the  members  suffer  with  it,  and  if 
one  member  rejoice,  all  the  members  rejoice  with  it ;  and 
this  instinctive  sympathy  is  irrespective  of  the  importance 
or  the  comeliness  of  the  respective  members.  Disease  and 
deformity  do  not  make  us  hate  our  own  flesh,  but  rather 
make  us  tend  and  cherish  it  all  the  more.  The  foot  cannot 
receive  a  wound  and  the  head  not  feel  for  it.  The  hand 
cannot  be  hurt  and  the  whole  body  not  feel  a  pang  of 
sympathy. 

In  such  a  body  no  member  is  superfluous.  The  very 
least,  the  meanest  member,  is  essential  to  the  perfection 
and  the  symmetry  of  the  whole.  No  one  member  can 
truly  say  to  another,  "I  have  no  need  of  thee."  The 
saints  in  rest  cannot  say  it  to  us  on  earth,  for  they  with- 
out us  cannot  be  made  perfect,  and  waiting  for  our  perfec- 
tion they  cry  still — "  How  long,  0  Lord,  how  long  ?  " 
"We  cannot  say  it  to  any  Christian  upon  earth,  for  with- 
out him  we  cannot  "  have  our  perfect  consummation  and 
bliss."  The  outcasts  we  would  reform,  the  heathen  we 
would  evangelise,  the  Christian  yet  unborn  for  whom  we 
pray,  we  have  need  of  all  these,  for  they  are  of  the 
elect  from  all  the  earth  for  whose  gathering  in  "  the 
manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God "  still  awaits  its  ac- 
complishment. They  are  of  the  number  which,  in  our 
hour  of  deepest  sorrow,  as  we  stand  beside  the  unclosed 
graves  of  those  we  loved  and  mourn,  we  beseech  our  Lord 
"  shortly  to  accomplish  "  and  so  to  hasten  His  coming. 

And  from  this  sense  of  unity  should  come,  mightiest  of 
all  uniting  influence,  the  power  of  Christian  love !  As 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


207 


through  all  this  body  flows  the  life-blood  of  its  spiritual 
existence,  so  throughout  it  all  should  branch  out  the  all- 
pervading  nerves  of  Christian  sympathy.  In  such  a  body 
there  should  be  no  schism,  for  no  member  of  it  can  ever 
truly  say  to  another,  I  have  no  need  of  thee.  Love  craves 
still  for  love,  and  seeks  for  opportunities  of  service.  None 
should  ever  have  occasion  to  say,  I  am  not  of  the  body, 
for  he  would  know  that  the  oneness  of  the  body  brought 
him  unfailingly  the  sympathy,  the  help  of  its  stronger, 
healthier  members.  So  love  in  this,  too,  as  in  all  other 
things,  would  be  the  fulfilling  of  the  law,  burning  out 
with  its  divine  fire  the  selfishness  of  envy  and  the  selfish- 
ness of  pride  ;  bringing  still  the  mutual  affection  and  the 
mutual  service  of  true  brotherhood  to  heal  the  estrange- 
ments and  to  appease  the  strifes  which  inequality  provokes, 
enabling  the  brother  of  low  degree  to  look  ungrudgingly 
on  the  rank  of  the  brother  of  high  degree,  because  he  is 
his  brother  ;  constraining  the  brother  of  high  degree  "not 
to  mind  high  things,  but  to  condescend  to  men  of  low 
estate,"  because  they  are  his  brethren  for  whom  Christ 
died. 

Such  was  St.  Paul's  ideal  of  a  Christian  Church,  an 
ideal  full  of  social  inequalities,  yet  pervaded  all  through 
by  a  sense  of  a  true — the  only  true — equality,  in  which 
all  are  not,  indeed,  equal  members,  but  all  are  equally 
members  of  the  Body  of  Christ ;  an  equality  of  brother- 
hood which  makes  men  tolerant  of  inequalities  of  rank ; 
an  ordered  and  appointed  inequality  of  rank,  which  is 
ever  tempered  by  the  sense  of  perfect  and  equal  brother- 
hood, resting,  all  of  it,  upon  the  sense  of  a  common  Father- 
hood of  God  in  Heaven ;  a  system  of  fraternity  and  of 
equality — the  only  true  fraternity  and  equality  possible 
for  men — resting  on  the  three  great  pillars  which  sustain 
the  confession  of  the  Church's  faith  :  "  I  believe  in  God 


208 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


the  Father,  in  God  the  Son,  and  in  God  the  Holy  Ghost  " 
— in  God  the  Father,  who,  with  a  Father's  wisdom  and 
a  Father's  love,  has  ordered  to  each  man  his  place  in  the 
world  as  it  hath  pleased  Him  :  in  God  the  Son,  who  has 
given  to  every  member  of  the  humanity  He  has  redeemed 
an  equal  share  in  His  redeeming  mercy,  an  equal  inheri- 
tance of  happiness  :  in  God  the  Holy  Spirit,  who,  infusing 
into  the  hearts  of  God's  children  the  spirit  whereby  they 
cry,  Abba,  Father !  teaches  them  to  recognise  the  true 
brotherhood  of  the  sons  of  God. 

The  Church  is  not  the  only  Society  that  suffers  from 
the  danger  of  schism.  The  State  knows  it  only  too  well, 
and  knows  it  in  its  acutest  and  most  dangerous  form — 
the  estrangement  and  the  strife  of  classes.  Perilous  as 
party  strife  may  sometimes  prove  to  the  welfare  of  a 
community,  its  perils  are  as  nothing  to  those  of  social  war- 
fare. The  one  may  be,  and  often  is,  nothing  more  than 
the  petty  squabbles  of  party  politicians  in  their  ignoble 
strife  for  place  and  power ;  mere  passing  disturbances, 
which  do  not  greatly  move  the  deep  current  of  a  nation's 
life,  which  flows  its  way  unheeding  the  shouts  and  gesticu- 
lations of  the  hostile  armies  that  line  its  banks.  The  other 
stirs  it  to  its  very  depths.  It  swells  its  waters  with  a 
sudden  flood,  slowly  gathered  from  many  an  unseen  source, 
sweeping  down  at  last  in  a  rushing,  roaring  torrent,  spread- 
ing destruction  all  along  its  course,  until  its  turbid  waters 
have  cloven  for  themselves  some  new  bed,  and  left  the  old 
one  where  they  once  flowed  so  peacefully  a  desolate  and 
storm-swept  ruin. 

The  statesman  may  regard  with  equanimity  the  tokens 
of  political  contention  in  the  State.  He  may  listen  calmly 
enough  to  the  watchwords  of  the  contending  parties  as 
every  man  is  saying,  I  am  of  this  man,  and  I  of  that.  But 
he  is  no  true  statesman  if  he  listen  with  like  equanimity 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


209 


to  the  sounds  of  social  strife.  He  will  hearken,  if  he  is 
wise,  with  a  beating  heart  whenever  he  hears  from  one 
class  the  cry,  loud,  passionate,  and  yet  with  its  undertone 
of  sorrow  like  to  the  sobbing  sigh  of  the  rising  storm — 
"  We  are  not  of  the  body  ;  "  and  from  the  other  the 
answering  challenge,  stern  and  angry,  and  yet  with  its 
undertone  of  fear — "  We  have  no  need  of  you."  These 
are  the  watchwords  of  a  long-descended  strife,  a  strife  that 
wakes  up  again  and  again  in  fierce  spasms  of  wrath. 
Whenever  the  House  of  Have  finds  itself  in  sudden,  sharp 
encounter  with  its  old  hereditary  foe,  the  House  of  Want ; 
whenever  the  old  contrast  breaks  sharply  out  between 
wealth  and  ease  and  poverty  and  toil,  between  the  high 
culture  of  civilisation  and  the  worse  than  natural  savagery 
that  seems  to  fringe  all  high  civilisation,  as  the  dark 
moraine  fringes  the  course  of  the  clear  and  polished  glacier, 
then  it  is  that  brave  men  fear  and  wise  men  are  perplexed, 
and  all  who  love  their  country  look  around  for  counsel  and 
for  help  to  heal  this  "  schism  in  the  body,"  which,  if  not 
healed,  must  end  in  death. 

And  is  not  the  danger  of  such  a  schism  as  this  the 
special  danger  of  our  day  ?  Are  we  not  at  this  moment 
imperatively  called  to  attempt  the  solution  of  great  social 
questions  which  threaten,  if  they  are  not  wisely  solved,  to 
tear  in  sunder  society  itself?  In  all  the  years  of  the 
centuries  that  have  elapsed  since  these  two  voices  rang  loud 
and  clear  throughout  Christendom,  have  they  ever  been 
heard  louder,  more  ominous  of  coming  storm,  than  we  hear 
them  now  ?  The  old  party  cries,  the  watchwords  that 
used  to  gather  men  into  opposing  bands  for  political  con- 
tests, are  fast  dying  away,  and  in  their  place  are  heard 
those  older  ones,  old  as  society  itself,  which  gather  men  to 
far  deadlier  strife — cries  which  are,  or  seem  to  be  to  those 
who  engage  in  them,  battle-cries  that  summon  men  to  a 

p 


210 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


combat  of  life  and  death — the  right  of  the  many  to  live, 
and  to  live  happily  :  the  right  of  the  few  to  live  more 
happily  than  the  many :  the  right  of  human  beings  to 
food  and  shelter  and  housing  at  least  as  good  as  that 
which  rich  men  give  to  their  cattle,  and  to  rest  and 
recreation  at  least  as  large  as  merciful  men  give  to  their 
beasts  of  burden  ;  and  as  against  these,  the  right  to  accu- 
mulate wealth,  however  vast,  and  to  enjoy  it,  however 
selfishly  or  luxuriously :  the  right  of  the  employer  to 
buy  labour  at  the  cheapest  rate  to  which  hunger  can 
force  down  his  market :  the  right  of  the  white  slave  of 
the  sweater  to  some  larger  share  in  his  owner's  profits 
than  just  serves  to  keep  together  an  unhappy  soul  in  a 
half-starved  body. 

These  are  the  questions,  no  longer  of  the  study  but  of 
the  street,  which  are  on  the  lips  of  all  men  and  in  the 
anxious  thoughts  of  many.  They  are  not — we  take  a 
miserably  shallow  view  of  them  if  we  say  they  are — merely 
the  watchwords  of  the  socialist  and  demagogue.  They  are 
cries — exceeding  bitter — wrung  by  sharp  distress  from  the 
hearts  of  suffering  men  and  women  and  children,  and  they 
are  rising  clearer,  louder,  year  by  year,  and  shaping  them- 
selves into  articulate  demands,  which  our  statesmen  seem 
not  to  know  how  either  to  grant  or  to  deny.  At  such  a 
moment  what  has  the  Church  to  offer  in  the  way  of  help 
and  counsel  to  the  nation  ?  What  have  we  Christians  to 
say — not  as  politicians — but  as  Christian  men  and  women? 
What  have  we,  as  the  servants  of  the  Peacemaker,  the 
disciples  of  the  Healer,  what  have  we  to  say  that  may  help 
to  make  these  wars  to  cease  in  all  the  earth,  and  to  heal 
these  "  wounds  and  bruises  and  putrifying  sores  "  that  are 
making  the  whole  head  sick  and  the  whole  heart  faint  in 
that  body  political  of  which  we  are  the  members  ? 

Something,  at  any  rate,  there  is  which  some  of  those 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


211 


who  are  engaged  in  this  strife  have  to  say  to  us,  and  we 
would  do  well  to  hearken  to  it  carefully.  They  are  saying 
to  us,  "It  is  your  Christianity  which  is  largely  the  cause 
of  these  troubles.    It  is  your  false  idea  of  a  life  to  come 
which  has  drawn  away  the  thoughts  of  men  from  the  great 
pressing  problems  of  this  present  world  to  the  question  how 
they  are  to  prepare  for  another  which  has  no  real  existence  ; 
which  has  set  men  upon  saving  their  souls  instead  of  giving 
all  their  thoughts  to  the  saving  of  their  own  and  other 
men's  bodies.    Give  all  this  wasted  thought  and  energy 
to  the  life  that  now  is,  with  the  added  incentive  that  there 
is  no  other  life  than  this,  and  then  as  things  secular  grow 
to  their  true  importance  in  men's  minds,  and  Christianity 
shrinks  at  last  into  a  chapter  in  a  book,  how  many  of 
these  troublesome  problems  will  be  solved  by  the  concen- 
trated thought  and  purpose  of  mankind  !    These  newer 
methods  will  surely  bring  us  nobler  aims  and  freer,  happier 
lives — as  men,  no  longer  distracted  by  the  dream  of  an 
imaginary  Heaven  hereafter,  set  themselves  with  one  ac- 
cord to  the  making  of  a  real  heaven  here  on  earth ! " 
Well !    To  such  prophets  we  offer  our  prophecy  in  turn. 
We  will  suppose  that  it  is  done  as  you  desire,  that  you 
have  obliterated  from  human  thought  the  ideas  of  God  and 
the  soul,  and  of  a  life  to  come.    What  then  ?    Why  this. 
That  the  old  question,  still  unsolved,  will  confront  you, 
terrible  and  pressing  as  ever.     You  will  still  have  to  deal 
with  the  old  problem  of  the  unequal  distribution  of  the 
good  things  of  life.  Social  inequality  is  not,  as  you  fondly 
imagine,  an  artificial  thing  produced  by  evil,  unjust  and  un- 
equal laws.  It  is  a  natural  thing  inherent  in  human  nature 
itself — ineradicable,  therefore,  by  any  laws  that  you  can 
make.  Social  inequality  is  simply  the  outcome  of  original 
physical  inequality.    It  springs  now,  as  of  old,  from  the 
diversities  of  gifts  which  God,  or  if  you  prefer  it,  Nature 


212 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


has  bestowed  on  men.    When  you  can  tell  us  why  one 
man  is  strong,  another  weak,  or  one  healthy  and  another 
sickly,  one  man  wise  and  another  foolish,  one  man  brave 
and  another  timid,  one  man  crafty  and  another  simple,  we 
will  tell  you  why  one  man  is  rich  and  another  poor.  For 
riches  and  poverty  came  originally — come  largely  now — 
from  the  strong  hand,  and  the  strong  brain,  and  the  reso- 
lute will  which  some  men  have  and  others  lack,  and  these 
natural  forces  will — just  because  they  are  natural — assert 
themselves  in  spite  of  all  your  attempts  at  artificial  repres- 
sion.   Make  all  men,  if  you  can,  socially  equal  to-day, 
they  will  begin  to  be  socially  unequal  to-morrow.  One  man 
will  have  begun  to  save  and  another  to  waste,  one  to  plan 
and  another  to  dream,  one  to  cheat  and  another  to  be 
cheated.    The  strong  will  have  begun  to  oppress  the  weak, 
the  cunning  to  deceive  the  foolish,  the  brave  to  overcome 
the  timid,  and  thus  wealth,  which  waits  still  upon  strength, 
will  redistribute  itself  in  spite  of  all  you  can  do  to  hinder 
it.    You  can  no  more  hinder  this  by  your  sumptuary  laws 
or  your  schemes  of  redistribution  than  you  can  bring  about 
fine  weather  by  setting  your  barometer  at  set-fair,  or 
change  the  rising  and  falling  of  the  tides  by  changing  the 
figures  in  your  almanack.    Sooner  or  later — and  sooner 
far  than  later — you  will  have  to  deal  with  just  the  same 
social  problems  that  afflict  and  perplex  us  now.  The  poor, 
we  venture  to  prophesy,  will  not  have  ceased  out  of  the 
land  because  you  have  made  religion  to  cease.    You  will 
hear  once  more  the  two  voices — "  I  am  not  of  the  body," 
and,  "  I  have  no  need  of  thee."    And  when  you  are  thus 
once  more  confronted  with  this  old-world  problem  of  social 
inequality,  what  shall  you  have  to  say  to  those  who  suffer 
from  it  as  of  old  ?  One  at  least  of  our  methods  of  dealing 
with  it  you  will  certainly  have  to  adopt.   You  will  have  to 
tell  men,  just  as  we  tell  them  now  :  This  state  of  things  is 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


213 


necessarjr,  is  inevitable,  but  not,  of  course,  you  will  say, 
because  God  tbe  Father  has  so  willed  it, — that  would  be 
to  revert  to  obsolete  superstition.  For  the  word  God  you 
must  substitute  the  word  Nature.  Instead  of  saying  God 
wills  this,  you  must  say,  Nature  has  ordained  it — using 
the  word  Nature,  be  it  observed  in  passing,  in  exactly  the 
anthropomorphic  way  in  which  you  forbid  us  to  speak  of 
God.  Nature  then,  we  will  suppose,  is  to  be  credited  with 
this  sad  necessity  for  the  unequal  distribution  of  the  plea- 
sures and  the  joys  of  life.  Will  you,  in  that  case,  have 
mended  matters  much  ?  Will  you  have  helped  much  to  heal 
the  soreness  of  envy  and  the  hate  of  want,  when  you  tell 
the  envious  and  the  needy  that  their  lot  is  the  result  of  a 
decree  of  Nature  ?  Doubtless  this  announcement  will  be 
a  quite  sufficient  answer  to  any  plea  of  right,  for  Nature 
knows  no  rights.  She  knows  of  forces  only.  Her  utter- 
ance to  every  living  creature  is  simply  this,  "  Live  if  you 
can,  and  live  as  you  can.  Live  on  if  you  are  strong  enough 
to  survive  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  If  not,  perish, 
and  the  fittest  will  survive  you."  The  agonies  of  your 
struggle  in  the  process  of  extinction  no  more  concern  her 
than  do  the  flutterings  of  the  leaves  as  they  fall  in  winter 
from  the  trees,  or  the  moaning  of  the  waves  as  they  are 
lashed  by  the  storm. 

But  when  you  have  said  this, — and  you  must  say  it  and 
nothing  else — somehow,  we  think,  you  will  not  have  done 
much  more  for  the  healing  of  the  schism  in  the  body  than 
we  can  do  now,  when  we  tell  men  that  this  inequality  is 
the  will  of  a  wise  and  loving  Heavenly  Father  who, 
though  He  sorely  tries  them  here,  has  another  world  in 
which  to  compensate  them  for  their  sufferings  in  this. 

Or  you  will,  perhaps,  adopt  another  of  our  methods  ? 
You  will  proclaim  the  universal  brotherhood  of  man.  You 
will  tell  all  men  that  they  are  brothers,  though  you  do 


214 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


riot  exactly  know  why  they  are  so,  and  you  will  exhort 
them  to  deal  with  each  other  as  becomes  brethren.  You 
may  do  this,  but  there  is  one  thing  that  you  cannot  do. 
You  cannot  create  the  brotherhood  that  you  proclaim. 
You  cannot  make  men  feel  they  are  brothers  just  because 
you  say  that  they  are  so.  They  will  ask  for  the  evidences 
of  this  new  revelation  of  yours  quite  as  sceptically  as  you 
ask  for  the  evidences  of  ours,  and  you  will,  we  imagine,  have 
greater  difficulty  in  supplying  them.  You  will  not  so  easily 
persuade  men  whom  you  have  taught  that  they  have  no 
common  Father,  that  somehow  or  other  they  are,  for  some 
reason  unknown  to  science,  members  of  a  common  brother- 
hood. Your  brotherhood  would  be  but  a  phrase,  ours  is  a 
fact ;  j^ours  is  but  a  word  in  a  book,  ours  a  law  written  in 
the  hearts  of  men. 

But  you  will  try,  perhaps,  to  make  this  brotherhood  a 
reality  ;  you  will  proceed  to  enforce  it  by  statute.  You 
will  pass  great  social  laws,  which,  if  they  do  not  make 
men  feel,  will,  at  least,  aim  at  compelling  them  to  act,  as 
if  they  were  brothers.    If  you  do  you  will  fail,  utterly 
and  universally,  as  all  men  have  always  failed  who  have 
tried  to  do  violence  to  human  nature.    What  is  unnatural 
is,  for  every  legislator,  in  the  end  impossible.    And  if  in- 
equality be  the  natural  condition  of  men,  as  we  have  seen 
it  is,  Nature  will  defy,  will  escape  from  your  laws  in  some 
way  or  another,  and  assert  herself  in  spite  of  them.  You 
will  only  have  repressed' her  forces  in  one  direction  to  in- 
sure their  breaking  out  in  another.    For  the  selfish  envy 
of  the  poor  you  will  have  substituted  the  grudging  rancour 
of  the  despoiled  and  plundered  rich ;  for  the  tyranny  of 
the  few  over  the  many,  the  more  greedy,  more  cruel,  and 
more  hopeless  tyranny  of  the  many  over  the  few.   In  order 
to  effect  this  new  compulsory  fraternity,  you  must  first 
and  necessarily  have  destroyed  liberty,  and  the  irrepres- 


ST.  FAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


215 


sible  desire  for  liberty  will  resent  and  resist  and  at  last 
overturn  the  intolerable  despotism  of  your  law-made 
brotherhood.  The  schism  in  the  body  will  yawn  as  wide 
and  as  deep  as  ever.  For  law  is  impotent  to  effect  that 
which  can  only  be  effected  by  love.  The  sacrifices  that 
love  readily  and  joyfully  makes,  it  would  be  a  monstrous 
injustice  and  cruelty  to  demand  by  law.  A  Howard  dying 
of  the  plague  that  infected  the  prisons  he  visited,  a 
Father  Damien*  expiring  of  the  loathsome  disease  he  has 
caught  from  the  lepers  for  whom  he  has  given  his  life, 
are  sublime  examples  of  the  spirit  of  Christian  brother- 
hood. But  can  we  even  imagine  a  law  that  should  have 
compelled  such  sacrifices  as  these  ?  No  !  you  cannot  en- 
force the  precepts  of  the  Gospel  by  legal  enactments.  You 
cannot  translate  into  Acts  of  Parliament  the  ideal  teach- 
ings of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount.  You  may  link  together, 
perhaps,  scraps  of  precepts  borrowed  by  you  from  the  Book 
which  you  tell  us  is  a  dead  imposition,  and  you  may  knit 
them  one  to  another  by  closest  mechanical  union  in  your 
new  social  system.  But  your  great  army  of  dry  bones  will 
never  stand  upon  its  feet  and  walk,  for  no  breath  of 
Heaven  will  ever  bid  these  dry  bones  live.  And  so  you 
will  at  last  discover  that  to  say,  Be  my  brother  or  I  will 
kill  you,  is  not  quite  so  powerful  a  spell  wherewith  to 
conquer  the  evils  tbat  afflict  humanity  as  that  old  despised 
one  you  would  have  us  discard — Be  thou  my  brother  for 
the  sake  of  the  Father  who  created  and  the  Christ  who 
redeemed  us  both.    Believe  us,  you  may  succeed  in  des- 

*  On  leaving  the  church  the  preacher  was  stopped  by  one  of  the 
congregation,  who  told  him  that  he  was  shortly  going  to  join  Father 
Damien,  and  intended  to  tell  him  of  the  reference  here  made  to  his  work. 
"  My  blessing,"  the  Bishop  replied,  "  he  will  not  care  for,  but  tell  him 
that  he  is  constantly  in  my  prayers."  This  message  was  duly  delivered, 
and  Father  Damien  sent  him  in  reply  his  photograph  with  a  few  lines  of 
grateful  thanks. 


216 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


troying  the  brotherhood  of  love — you  will  never  replace 
it  by  a  brotherhood  of  law. 

We  do  not,  therefore,  greatly  care  to  discuss  with  these 
prophets  of  an  impossible  equality,  and  these  preachers  of 
an  unreal  fraternity,  the  future  which  they  foretell  but 
can  never  realise.  Far  more  does  it  concern  us  to  hearken 
to  and  to  answer,  if  we  can,  another  and  a  very  different 
challenge.  It  is  the  challenge  and  the  complaint  of  the 
poor  to  whom  we  preach  this  brotherhood  in  Christ. 
"What  they  are  saying  to  us  is  this  :  What  is  your 
Christianity  to  us  ?  What  can  it  do  for  us,  not  in  the 
next  world,  but  in  this  ?  You  tell  us  that  it  has  the 
promise  of  this  world  as  well  as  of  that  which  is  to  come. 
How  is  it  fulfilling  that  promise  ?  Can  it  feed  the  hungry 
and  clothe  the  naked  ?  Can  it  deliver  us  from  the  bitter 
anxieties  and  sad  weariness  of  our  present  lot  ?  Can  it 
give  us  happier  lives  than  those  we  are  now  compelled  to 
live  ?  If  it  cannot,  we  will  have  none  of  it.  The  Christ 
you  preach  had  compassion  on  the  multitude.  He  fed  the 
hungry.  He  bid  the  rich  sell  all  and  give  to  the  poor. 
When  your  Christianity  does  this  we  will  listen  to  you, 
and  not  till  then.  Meanwhile,  go — preach  it  to  the  rich  ; 
it  is  no  Gospel  for  us  ! 

To  answer  rightly  such  a  challenge  as  this  needs 
courage  and  faithfulness,  as  well  as  wisdom,  on  the  part 
of  the  Church.  She  needs  courage  to  tell  the  poor  man 
that  it  is  not  the  aim  or  object  of  Christianity  to  make  all 
men  happy,  but  to  make  all  men  holy ;  that  physical 
comfort  is  not  the  highest  condition  for  men — that  it  is 
even  possible  that  the  highest  condition  can  only  be 
reached  by  any  man  through  physical  discomfort,  whether 
that  of  want  or  of  voluntary  self-denial :  that  if  her 
Master  has  said  it  is  hard  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into 
His  Kingdom,  He  was  not  thereby  teaching  men  that  the 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


217 


poor  in  His  Kingdom  should  become  rich  ;  rather  was 
He  teaching  men  that  in  His  Kingdom  there  was  a  greater 
blessing  than  wealth,  which  wealth  might  even  hinder 
men  from  owning.  She  must  have  the  courage  to  tell 
men  that  it  is  not  her  mission  to  help  humanity  by  alter- 
ing the  laws  of  the  State,  but  by  altering  the  hearts  of 
men.  She  must  dare  to  say  as  her  Master  said  of  old  to 
him  who  said  unto  Him,  "  Master,  speak  unto  my  brother, 
that  he  divide  the  inheritance  with  me," — "Man,  who 
made  Me  a  judge  or  a  divider  over  thee  ?  " 

But  when  she  has  said  this,  has  she  said  out  all  her 
words  to  those  who  in  the  State  are  striving  for  the 
mastery  ?  No  !  She  has  another  message,  and  one  that 
needs  far  more  of  courage  and  of  faithfulness  to  deliver. 
It  is  her  message  to  the  rich.  To  them  she  has  to  preach 
the  gospel  of  fraternity  as  it  was  preached  of  old  by  Christ 
and  His  Apostles  ;  as,  alas  !  it  is  too  tamely  and  too  feebly 
preached  now.  She  has  to  tell  the  rich  man  that  in  the 
poor  man  at  his  gate  he  sees  a  brother  for  whom  Christ 
died — sees  Christ  Himself — hungry  and  needing  to  be 
fed — sick  and  needing  to  be  visited,  naked  and  needing  to 
be  clothed ;  sees  one  who,  by  virtue  of  his  brotherhood, 
has  the  right  that  no  human  laws  can  give  him  to  the 
service  of  his  happier  brother's  love, — a  right,  not  to 
casual  and  careless  and  often  hurtful  alms,  but  to  a  careful 
inquiry  into  his  sad  lot ;  to  thoughtful  and  earnest  con- 
sideration of  how  it  may  be  best  alleviated ;  a  right  to 
his  brotherly  sympathy,  to  his  kindly  words  as  well  as 
kindly  deeds ;  a  right  to  share  not  only  in  his  wealth, 
but  in  something  of  the  grace,  the  culture,  the  refinement 
that  wealth  has  enabled  him  to  enjoy,  and  therefore 
enables  him  to  communicate.  She  is  bound  in  her  Master's 
name  not  only  to  bind  up  the  sores  of  Lazarus,  but  to 
plead  his  right  in  Christ's  name  to  something  more  and 


218 


ST.  PAUL  on  socialism:. 


better  than  the  crumbs  that  fall  from  the  table  of  Dives, 
even  though  at  that  table  she  should  find  herself  a  guest. 
She  is  bound  to  charge  those  who  are  rich  in  this  world  to 
be  "  ready  to  give  and  glad  to  communicate  "  to  Christ's 
poor  a  share  of  all  that  they  possess.  She  must  not  fear 
to  tell  the  man  of  rank  and  wealth,  that  rank  and  wealth 
in  the  commonwealth  of  Christ  are,  like  every  other  pos- 
session, only  talents  lent  by  the  Master  to  be  used  for  His 
honour  and  His  glory,  and  that  the  special  glory  of  His 
Kingdom  is  self-sacrifice  of  each  for  all  and  all  for  each. 
She  must  not  shrink  from  warning  the  brother  of  high 
degree  to  beware  how  he  ever  allows  himself,  in  the 
selfish  and  fastidious  isolation  that  culture  and  refine- 
ment are  so  apt  to  generate,  to  say  to  the  brother  of 
low  degree,  I  have  no  need  of  thee.  She  must  lift  up 
her  voice.  She  must  cry  aloud  and  spare  not  against 
those  whose  whole  aim  in  life  seems  to  be  to  "  add 
field  to  field,  and  house  to  house,  until  there  be  no 
room."  She  must  proclaim  to  all  men  that  the  chief 
end  of  man  is  not  to  live  pleasantly  and  fashionably  and 
to  die  rich  ;  and  that  to  have  amassed  millions,  out  of 
which  no  portion  has  ever  been  given  or  ever  bequeathed 
to  the  service  of  God  or  man,  is  not,  as  some  seem  to  think, 
the  shortest  and  the  easiest  road  to  Heaven. 

In  a  word,  she  must  preach  boldly,  fearlessly,  sternly, 
the  duty  of  self-denial  to  the  rich  before  she  preaches  the 
duty  of  patience  and  resignation  to  the  poor.  She  must 
show  to  all  men  that  her  gospel  of  fraternity  is  a  gospel 
for  all  men,  is  good  news  not  only  for  the  poor,  to  whom 
it  gives  promise  of  help  and  consolation  in  this  life,  but  for 
the  rich  to  whom  it  gives  opportunity  for  self-sacrificing 
service  to  Christ  their  Lord,  in  the  persons  of  His  suffering 
members  upon  earth. 

Then,  when  she  has  done  this,  and  in  the  measure  that 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


219 


she  has  done  it,  may  she  turn  to  the  poor  and  speak  to 
them  of  their  brotherhood  with  the  rich  and  with  the 
great.  She  may  tell  them  how  this,  the  only  true  brother- 
hood, rightly  understood,  is  a  reason  not  for  repining 
envy  but  for  patient  and  relf-respecting  acquiescence  in 
the  inequality  which  is  the  appointment  of  their  Father 
in  Heaven  ;  that  the  thought  of  it  should  not  lead  the 
poor  man  to  say,  "Why,  if  such  an  one  is  my  brother, 
should  he  be  higher  placed  or  happier  than  I  am  ?  "  but 
rather  to  say,  "  I  do  not  grudge  him  his  higher  rank  or 
greater  wealth,  for  is  he  not  my  brother  ?  "  She  may  teach 
him  that  in  Christ's  Church  poverty  is  no  disgrace  and 
charity  no  humiliation,  for  that  the  place  is  of  the  Father's 
ordering,  and  the  charity  is  a  brother's  gift.  So  only 
can  we  hope  to  see  some  healing  of  that  schism  in  the 
body  which  no  State  laws,  no  external  force  can  ever  heal. 
So  shall  the  Church  prove  herself  still  the  messenger  and 
the  servant  of  the  Prince  of  Peace — preaching  to  the 
rich,  Despise  not;  to  the  poor,  Envy  not;  preaching  to 
both  the  only  true  gospel  of  equality  and  fraternity  possible 
for  men  :  equality  of  all  human  souls  in  the  sight  of  the 
Ruler  and  the  Judge  of  all  men  :  fraternity  of  high  and 
low,  rich  and  poor,  in  this  Brotherhood  of  Christ. 

But  should  she  prove  unfaithful  to  this  her  twofold 
mission  ;  should  she  ever  lack  the  courage  to  preach  the 
whole  of  this  her  gospel  to  all  alike ;  should  she  fear 
to  lose  favour  with  the  great  or  popularity  with  the 
poor ;  should  she  seek  to  win  the  support  of  the  one  by 
servility,  or  the  trust  of  the  other  by  lending  herself  to 
wild  schemes  of  social  change,  crude  attempts  at  effecting 
by  the  mere  letter  of  the  law  what  can  only  be  effected 
by  the  power  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ ;  if,  forgetting  her 
Master's  refusal  to  divide  the  inheritance,  she  attempts  to 
do  so,  whether  in  the  interest  of  the  poor  or  of  the  rich, 


220 


ST.  PAUL  ON  SOCIALISM. 


then  assuredly  she  will  fail,  as  all  who  have  made  the  same 
attempt  have  failed  from  the  beginning,  and  she  will  have 
lost  in  the  attempt  her  power  to  help  and  to  heal.  No 
longer  fitted  to  mediate  between  the  contending  parties  in 
the  social  strife  that  may  rage  around  her — slave  of  the 
one,  or  unwise  partizan  of  the  other — she  will  run  the 
risk  of  eventually  alienating  both  ;  the  rich  and  the  great 
from  their  resentment  for  their  invaded  privilege  and  their 
threatened  wealth,  the  poor  in  bitter  disappointment  for 
promises  unfulfilled  and  hopes  that  have  deceived.  She 
will  lose  not  only  her  secular  position  or  privileges — for 
these  she  should  not  have  so  much  as  a  thought — but  that 
infinitely  more  precious  possession,  which  should  be  dear 
to  her  as  her  life,  the  power  to  join  together  in  the  unity 
of  the  Spirit  and  the  bond  of  peace  the  many  members  of 
the  Body  of  Christ  her  Lord.  But  if,  on  the  contrary,  she 
truly  and  fully  understands  her  mission  and  her  place  in 
the  State ;  if,  instead  of  proclaiming  some  new  brother- 
hood, she  set  herself  to  revive  the  old  ;  if,  instead  of 
attempting  to  re-constitute  society,  she  give  herself  to  her 
true  task,  the  purifying  and  the  sanctifying  of  it,  then  to 
her  may  be  given  the  power  to  save  it  too  ;  to  save  it 
from  perishing  through  internecine  strife ;  to  heal,  as  she 
alone  can  heal,  that  schism  in  the  body  which  unhealed  is 
death. 


CHRIST  IN  US. 


CHRIST  IN  US. 


Pbeached  at  Windsoe,  on  Mabch  16,  1890. 
"Examine  yourselves  .  .  .  prove  your  own  selves." — 2  Cob.  xiii.  5. 

THERE  is  at  first  sight  nothing  unusual,  nothing  speci- 
ally remarkable,  in  the  advice  here  given  by  the 
Apostle  Paul  to  the  Corinthians.  Self-examination,  the 
proving  and  testing  of  ourselves,  is  the  obvious  duty  of  all 
Christians.  If  we  believe,  as  we  do,  that  what  we  shall 
be  hereafter  depends  upon  what  we  are  now,  it  is  clearly 
our  duty  and  our  wisdom  to  ascertain  from  time  to 
time  what  we  are  and  where  we  are  ;  to  find  out,  if  we 
can,  whether  we  are  or  are  not  in  the  way  that  leads  to 
everlasting  life.  Examine  yourselves,  therefore,  prove 
your  own  selves,  is  just  the  advice  which  every  faithful 
Christian  teacher  ought  to  give,  and  which  every  faithful 
Christian  teacher  does  give  to  his  hearers. 

But  although  there  is  nothing  unusual  or  remarkable 
in  this  advice  considered  in  itself,  there  is  something 
unusual  and  very  remarkable  in  the  purpose  for  which  it 
is  given  on  this  occasion  by  St.  Paul.  When  we  look  at 
the  context  we  see  that  St.  Paul  is  advising  the  Corin- 
thians to  examine  themselves,  not  with  a  view  to  finding 
out  what  they  were,  but  what  he  was ;  not  in  order  to 
ascertain  whether  they  were  truly  Christians,  but  whether 
he  had  been  truly  sent  to  them  by  Christ. 

The  Corinthians  had  been  induced  to  doubt  this.  There 


224 


CHRIST  IX  US. 


had  been  those  amongst  them  who  disparaged  St.  Paul's 
authority  and  denied  that  he  was  what  he  claimed  to  be — 
truly  an  apostle  of  Jesus  Christ.  And  much  of  this 
Epistle  is  taken  up  in  asserting  his  claim  to  this  office 
and  giving  proof  of  it.  And  now,  at  the  close  of  his 
letter  to  them,  he  gives  them  one  more  proof,  and  one 
that  he  evidently  regards  as  the  most  convincing  of 
them  all.  "  Since  ye  seek  a  proof  of  Christ  speaking 
in  me,  one  that  is  not  weak,  but  mighty,  I  will  give  it 
to  you.  It  is  this  :  Examine  yourselves,  prove  your  own 
selves.  '  Know  ye  not  that  Christ  is  in  you,  except  ye  be 
reprobates  ?  '  You  will  find,  that  is  to  say,  if  you  seek  for 
it,  this  :  you  will  find  Christ  in  you  ;  and  if  you  so  find 
this — and  I  am  sure  you  will — if  you  find  that  this  has 
been  the  effect  of  my  preaching  and  my  teaching,  then 
you  can  have  no  doubt  that  Christ  has  been  speaking  to 
you  by  me."  St.  Paul,  we  see,  therefore,  on  this  occasion 
does  not  doubt  the  reality  of  their  Christian  faith  and  life, 
or  suggest  to  them  to  doubt  it.  On  the  contrary,  he  takes 
this  for  granted,  and  he  takes  for  granted  that  they  too 
will  have  no  doubt  of  this,  and  then  from  this  he  argues — 
If  this  be  so,  then  Christ  is  in  you,  and  if  Christ  be  in 
you  then  you  can  have  no  doubt  that  He  has  sent  me 
to  you. 

In  other  words,  St.  Paul  is  here  appealing  to  the  per- 
sonal experience  of  his  hearers  for  the  proof  of  the  truth 
of  their  new  faith,  and  the  authority  of  their  new  teacher. 
He  is  telling  them  that  there  is,  or  that  there  ought  to 
be,  that  in  every  one  of  them  which  should  convince  them 
on  these  points.  In  so  doing,  St.  Paul  is  stating  two  great 
truths,  as  true  for  us  now  as  they  were  for  those  to  whom 
be  first  declared  them. 

1.  That  there  may  be,  and  ought  to  be,  in  every  one  of 
us,  a  proof  of  the  truth  of  our  religion. 


CHRIST  IN  US. 


225 


2.  That  we  may  obtain  this  proof  every  one  of  us  for 
ourselves. 

Now  if  this  be  so  it  is  hardly  possible  to  overrate  the 
value  of  this  test  of  the  truth  of  our  religion.  Its  value 
obviously  consists  in  this,  that  it  is  a  test,  a  proof  that 
lies  equally  within  the  reach  of  all  men.  There  are 
proofs,  evidences,  of  our  faith,  which  are  not  within  all 
men's  reach.  Learned  and  able  men  have  written  learned 
and  able  books  in  defence  of  Christianity  ;  and  perhaps 
there  never  were  more  of  such  learned  and  able  defences 
of  our  faith  than  at  this  present  moment,  when  so  many 
deny  and  assail  it. 

But  these  learned  books  are  in  the  libraries  of  learned 
men.  They  are  not  accessible  ;  they  are  not  always 
intelligible  for  plain  and  unlettered  folk.  Surely  for 
these,  and  they  are  the  majority  of  Christians,  we  need 
something  simpler,  easier,  nearer  at  hand.  It  is  the  glory 
of  Christ's  gospel,  He  Himself  has  told  us  so,  that  it  is 
preached  to  the  poor.  Is  it  not  then  a  great  matter  if 
there  be  also  a  proof  for  His  gospel  that  can  suit  the  poor 
and  the  sinful, — some  proof  that  needs  no  learning,  no 
study,  no  keen  skill  in  logic,  to  judge  of;  that  needs  only 
an  honest  heart,  a  simple,  truthful  dealing  with  our  own 
consciences  to  enable  us  to  judge,  each  and  all  of  us  for 
himself  or  herself,  the  great  question  of  questions  :  Am 
I  right  or  am  I  wrong  in  trusting  my  soul  to  Christ  ?  Is 
it  a  cunningly  devised  fable,  or  is  it  a  light  from  Heaven 
that  I  am  following  when  I  give  myself  to  Him  for  this 
world  and  the  next  ? 

Let  us  see,  then,  whether  we  have  such  a  proof  as  this 
in  the  counsel  of  St.  Paul. 

He  tells  us  that  if  we  examine  ourselves  we  shall,  if  we 
are  not  reprobates,  find  "  Christ  in  us."  What  does  he 
mean  ?    It  is  a  very  remarkable  expression.    It  is  used 

Q 


226 


CHRIST  IN  US. 


in  the  Scriptures  of  Christ  and  of  Christ  alone.  No  one 
of  His  Apostles  ever  uses  it  of  himself.  Nay,  no  teacher 
of  men,  no  preacher  of  any  religion  or  of  any  philosophy, 
ever  used  it  of  himself  before  or  after  Christ.  And  yet  it 
is  constantly  used  respecting  Him.  We  read  of  "  Christ 
in  you  "  ;  "  Christ  being  fully  formed  in  you  "  ;  "  Christ 
in  you  the  hope  of  glory."  Nay,  it  is  our  Lord's  expres- 
sion respecting  Himself.  He  speaks  of  coming  to  him 
who  loves  Him,  and  taking  up  His  abode  in  him.  He 
prays  in  His  last  prayer  to  His  Father  that  He  may  thus 
dwell  in  His  disciples,  "I  in  them,  as  Thou,  Father,  art 
in  Me."  Surely  this  is  something  more  than  a  figure  of 
speech,  and  if  it  was,  figures  represent  facts.  What  then 
is  that  fact,  that  spiritual  fact  in  our  experience,  which 
we  may  each  one  of  us  ascertain  and  realise,  that  is 
implied  in  these  words,  "  Christ  in  you  "  ? 

He  has  Himself  answered  for  us  this  question  in  those 
words  of  His  which  I  have  quoted,  "  I  in  them,  as  Thou, 
Father,  art  in  Me."  He  prays  that,  as  God  dwells  in 
Him,  so  He  may  dwell  in  us ;  that  is  to  say,  that  as  the 
fulness  of  the  Divine  nature  dwelt  in  His  humanity  so 
should  the  fulness  of  His  human  nature  dwell  in  us;  that 
He  should  make  us  partakers  of  His  nature,  that  perfect 
human  nature  which  He  took  to  Himself  that  He  might 
bestow  it  upon  us,  so  that  we  should  be  fashioned  anew 
in  His  likeness ;  conformed,  as  the  Bible  tells  us,  to  His 
image  ;  be  made  like  unto  Him  in  all  things,  who  was  in 
all  things  made  like  unto  us ;  so  that  as  man  was  in  the 
first  creation  made  in  the  image  and  likeness  of  God,  the 
new  man,  the  regenerate  man,  should  be  made  anew  in 
the  image  and  likeness  of  Christ. 

We  shall  understand  this  more  clearly  and  fully  if  we 
think  for  one  moment  of  the  great  law  that  governs  all 
forms  of  life.    Every  living  thing  has  its  own  form 


CHEIST  IN  US. 


227 


or  type  to  which  it  is  always  true,  which,  always 
appears  in  it  and  so  makes  it  different  from  every  other 
form.  The  acorn  that  we  plant  springs  up  always 
an  oak.  The  seed  of  wheat  springs  up  always  wheat. 
The  root  of  the  vine  we  set  sends  up  always  the  branching 
stem,  the  clustering  grape.  Its  seed  is  itself,  never 
another.  And  this  is  true  of  our  own  race  and  our  own 
life.  The  race,  the  family,  are  true  to  their  ancestral 
type.  The  ancestor,  the  parent  reappears  in  the  child. 
Much  he  may  have  in  common  with  all  other  men.  Some- 
thing he  always  has  in  which  he  is  unlike  to  all  others 
save  to  his  own  ancestor ;  so  that  it  is  a  common  form  of 
speech  to  say  when  any  such  ancestral  likeness  is  seen, 
there  is  the  father,  or  the  mother,  or  the  ancestor  over 
again.  So  when  we  speak  of  Christ  being  in  Christian 
men  we  mean  that  He,  the  perfect  man,  has  produced  on 
earth  a  new  type  of  humanity  ;  something  that  the  world 
before  had  never  known  ;  something  which  should  be  found 
in  every  true  member  of  the  Christian  family,  and  which 
can  be  seen  and  recognised  as  the  likeness  of  Christ. 

"What  then  are,  as  it  were,  those  features  of  Christ  that 
should  reproduce  themselves  in  every  true  Christian  ? 
How  is  it  that  the  Christ  in  us  should  manifest  Himself 
as  He  has  promised  to  do  to  us  ? 

Surely  He  will  show  Himself  now  as  He  did  when  on 
earth — 

1.  As  the  obedient  Son  of  God. 

He  came  on  earth  to  do  and  to  suffer  His  Father's  will. 
It  was,  He  tells  us,  His  very  meat  and  drink  to  do  the 
will  of  Him  who  sent  Him.  His  whole  life  of  serving  or 
suffering  on  earth  was,  from  first  to  last,  a  task  appointed 
Him  of  His  Heavenly  Father,  throughout  the  whole  of 
which  His  human  will  was  ever  absolutely  one  with  the 
Divine. 


228 


CHRIST  IN  US. 


2.  In  the  next  place,  as  He  was  the  absolutely  perfect 
Son  of  Grod  so  was  He  the  brother,  the  absolutely  true  and 
perfect  brother,  of  every  man.  He  loved  not  this  man 
nor  that,  but  all  men  ;  all  humanity  as  men.  Bone  of  our 
bone,  flesh  of  our  flesh  ;  touched  with  a  feeling  of  our 
infirmities,  bearing  our  sorrows,  carrying  our  infirmities — 
He  loved  not  only  those  who  were  lovable,  but  those 
who  were  odious  :  the  lost,  the  outcast,  the  loathsome.  He 
loved  with  a  perfect  love  the  race  for  which  He  came 
to  die. 

3.  Lastly — He  was  a  perfect  man,  the  one  only  perfect 
man  the  world  has  ever  seen  in  the  perfection  of  His 
holiness  ;  holiness  which  is  something  more  than  morality, 
something  more  than  righteousness  even — holiness  which 
hated  all  evil  as  evil,  purity  which  shrank  from  all  things 
base  and  foul  and  evil  with  a  natural  repulsion.  Holy, 
harmless,  undefiled  was  that  nature  which  He  has  pro- 
mised to  bestow  on  us. 

In  these  three  respects,  surely,  was  the  character  of 
Christ  a  new  thing  in  the  history  of  humanity — a  Man 
who  had  no  will  but  God's  will — a  Man  who  knew  no 
brother  man  whom  he  did  not  regard  with  a  brother's 
love — a  Man  who  knew  no  sin,  neither  was  guile  found  in 
his  mouth.  And  it  is  this  His  nature  which  He  has  pro- 
mised shall  be  in  us  ! 

Can  we  then,  as  we  examine  ourselves,  find  in  these 
respects  the  life  of  Christ  living  within  us  ?  Not  assuredly 
in  its  perfection,  for  we  shall  not  be  fully  like  Him  until 
we  see  Him  as  He  is.  But  in  its  beginnings  even,  in  its 
rudiments,  can  we  discern  the  life  of  Christ  ?  For  life, 
if  it  is  real,  must  have  its  beginnings — its  growth,  often 
its  slow  and  feeble  growth,  towards  perfection.  Never- 
theless it  is  ever  true  to  its  type ;  the  spark  we  kindle  is 
but  a  spark,  but  the  life  of  the  fire  is  in  it  that  may 


CHRIST  IN  US. 


229 


grow  to  a  mighty  flame.  The  spring  blade  is  but  the 
feeble  beginning  of  life,  but  it  is  yet  to  grow  and  ripen 
into  sheath  and  grain.  The  light  of  the  dawn  in  its  first 
streak  in  the  east  is  a  very  feeble  light,  but  it  is  the  light 
that  is  yet  to  glow  in  the  glory  and  the  power  of  the 
noontide.  The  feeble  wail  and  stretching  hand  of  the 
infant  is  a  very  tiny  life ;  it  is  to  grow,  it  may  be,  to  the 
hand  of  the  warrior  and  the  might  of  the  mail-clad  man. 
So  the  life  of  Christ  in  the  heart  of  His  feeblest  follower 
may  be  but  a  very  feeble  beginning  of  life,  and  yet  it  is 
true,  real  life,  and  it  will  manifest  from  the  first  some- 
thing of  the  Christian  type. 

When  we  seek  for  it  we  have  to  ask,  not — Do  I  perfectly 
love  God  and  man  ?  not — Am  I  perfectly  free  from  sin  ? 
but — Have  I  ever  had  even  one  thought  of  loving  obedi- 
ence to  God  ?  Has  there  ever  swelled  up  in  my  heart,  were 
it  but  for  one  moment,  the  thought,  I  have  a  Father  in 
Heaven,  may  His  will  not  mine  be  done  ?  In  that  one 
thought,  in  that  one  word,  there  lived,  there  spoke  in  us 
the  Son  of  God. 

2.  Have  I  ever  felt  in  my  heart  a  thought  of  love 
to  my  fellow-men?  Not  merely  a  feeble  good-natured 
amiability,  which  in  a  languid  way  wishes  well  to  all  men, 
but  a  real  living  desire  to  save  and  help  my  fellow-men, 
to  bear  something  of  their  burdens,  to  carry  some  of  their 
sorrows  ?  Have  we  ever  striven  to  love  those  who  are 
not  lovable,  who  we  know  do  not  love,  nay,  may  even  hate 
us,  and  loved  them  for  God's  sake  ?  In  that  hour,  in  that 
thought,  there  lived  and  spake  in  us  the  perfect  Son  of 
Man. 

3.  Have  we  ever  felt  in  our  hearts  a  hatred  of  evil  for 
its  own  sake,  because  it  is  evil,  because  of  its  impurity, 
its  vileness,  because  of  its  deadly  power  to  paralyse  our 
spiritual  life  ?  Have  we,  too,  ever  gone  out  to  our  hour  of 


230 


CHRIST  IN  TJS. 


temptation  and  striven  with  the  tempter,  and  conquered 
by  the  might  and  the  power  of  the  Spirit  of  God  ?  In 
that  moment  of  temptation,  resisted  and  conquered,  there 
lived  and  spoke  in  us  the  perfectly  holy  Christ. 

And  it  is  when  we  find  in  ourselves  these  beginnings, 
were  they  only  beginnings,  of  a  higher  life  that  we  know 
that — just  because  they  are  not  natural,  just  because  mere 
unaided,  unrenewed  humanity  never  brought  forth  fruits 
like  these — there  is  in  us  another,  a  higher  life  than  our 
own  ;  and  then,  remembering  that  this  is  just  what  Christ 
our  Lord  promised  we  should  have, — promised  that  He 
would  give  us,  we  have  the  proof  we  need,  the  sure  and 
certain  knowledge  that  in  us  there  is  His  life,  in  us 
begun  and  yet  to  be  completed,  His  likeness ;  we  recog- 
nise Christ  in  us,  the  hope  of  glory. 

This  is  that  proof  of  our  faith  which  lies,  as  I  have 
said,  within  the  reach  of  every  one  of  us.  Ask  the 
Christian  who  is  striving  to  live  the  better  life  in  the 
strength  of  Him  who  lived  and  died  and  rose  again  that 
he  might  be  enabled  to  live  it,  ask  him  this  :  Are  you 
foil  sure  that  there  was  in  this  world  a  Saviour,  which 
was  Christ  the  Lord  ?  Have  you  weighed  all  the  historic 
proofs  of  his  existence  ?  Can  you  prove  logically  beyond 
doubt  or  question  all  the  articles  of  your  belief  concern- 
ing him  ?  He  may  safely  answer,  ~No  !  This,  indeed,  I 
have  not,  perhaps  I  could  not  do,  and  yet  I  have  that 
within  me  that  convinces  me  there  must  have  been  such 
a  Saviour  long  ago,  for  I  know  that  there  is  such  a 
Saviour  note.  I  feel  I  know  that  he  is  delivering  me 
from  sin,  that  he  is  strengthening  me  against  temptation, 
that  he  is  revealing  to  me  myself  as  I  am  and  my  better 
higher  self  as  I  feel  it  ought  to  be,  and  that  He  is  help- 
ing me  to  cast  off  the  one  and  to  put  on  the  other.  Like 


CHRIST  IN  US. 


231 


the  blind  man  in  the  Gospel  who  was  told  to  doubt  Him 
who  had  healed  him,  he  can  make  answer,  "  One  thing 
I  know,  that  whereas  I  was  blind  now  I  see ;  whereas  I 
was  paralysed  for  all  good,  now  I  can  walk  in  the  way 
of  life  ;  I  feel  this  life  within  me,  I  know  that  when  it 
is  at  its  best  I  am  happiest,  strongest  for  all  that  my 
conscience  calls  me  to  do  or  to  suffer  ;  I  know  that  when 
I  am  nearest  Christ  I  am  nearest  my  ideal  of  what  men 
ought  to  be.  Those  sentences  in  my  creed  about  which 
men,  you  tell  me,  are  disputing,  are  the  light  of  all  my 
existence ;  those  words  of  Christ  my  Lord  which  some 
would  assert  he  never  spoke,  they  are  to  me  spirit  and 
life.  These  are  facts  which  no  argument  can  deprive  me 
of ;  nay,  these  are  facts  which  no  arguments  can  ever 
account  for.  The  Christ  within  me  witnesses  to  the 
Christ  of  the  Gospels.  By  the  light  that  He  shed  upon 
my  path  in  life  ;  by  all  that  he  has  revealed  to  me  of 
myself,  by  the  triumphs,  the  victories  He  has  helped 
me  to  win  over  my  self ;  by  the  longing  that  I  feel  for 
the  final  victory  when  I  shall  be  altogether  even  as  He 
is,  I  know  Him  and  I  own  Him  as  my  Saviour  and  my 
Lord.  To  whom  else  should  I  go  ?  He  has  the  words  of 
Eternal  Life." 

And  not  only  may  we  thus  gain  evidence  for  our  faith, 
but  we  may,  each  of  us,  be  evidences  of  it  to  others.  The 
life,  the  daily  life,  of  each  Christian  man  or  woman  may 
be,  to  those  who  believe  not,  a  most  mighty  proof  of  the 
truth  and  the  power  of  their  faith.  Men  may  scoff  at 
his  belief,  they  cannot  scoff  at  his  life ;  they  see  and  feel 
in  spite  of  themselves  that  there  is  something  in  that  life 
that  is  higher,  better,  nobler  than  their  own,  that  puts 
their  own  to  shame.  It  need  not  be  a  great,  an  heroic, 
a  conspicuous  life — such  lives  there  have  been,  there  are — 


232 


CHRIST  IN  US. 


the  Church  of  Christ  has  her  great  heroes,  her  nobler 
army  of  martyrs ;  but  she  has  also  her  quiet,  humble, 
faithful,  patient  lives  that  are  quietly,  patiently,  lovingly 
working  out  God's  holy  will  on  earth ;  and  as  they  do 
so,  showing  out  the  power  and  the  presence  of  Christ ; 
epistles  known  and  read  of  all  men  ;  none  so  lowly,  none 
so  obscure  that  they  are  without  influence,  without  power 
of  testifying  thus  to  the  truth  and  reality  of  their  faith. 
The  father  to  his  family,  the  mother  to  the  little  ones 
that  lisp  their  prayers  at  her  knee,  the  loving  brother 
or  sister,  the  faithful  friend,  the  godly,  God-fearing 
citizen,  each  and  all  are  giving  to  them  just  the  strength, 
the  evidence  that  lies  in  good  men's  lives.  Small  though 
the  range  of  such  influence,  faint  the  light  that  glows 
from  each  such  life,  altogether  they  make  a  great  light ; 
just  as  when  some  great  city  is  lighted  up  at  night, 
each  single  light  that  gleams  in  each  window-pane  may 
be  but  a  small  one,  but  altogether  they  make  the  gleam 
and  the  glow  that  flashes  and  lights  up  the  midnight 
sky. 

So  lives  still  on  earth,  in  the  lives  of  His  servants,  the 
ever-living  Christ.  So  still  does  He  walk  the  world,  as 
He  walked  in  the  days  of  His  flesh,  going  about  and 
doing  good,  binding  the  broken-hearted,  helping  the 
weary,  healing  all  manner  of  evil  amongst  men,  and  His 
works  of  old  are  thus  wrought  again  and  again.  And  as 
we  remember  how,  since  the  hour  of  His  resurrection, 
they  have  never  ceased,  how  back  from  this  hour  to  that 
there  stretches  the  long  line  of  torch-bearers,  holding 
aloft  the  light  of  holy  lives,  there  grows  and  compasses 
us  round  a  cloud  of  witnesses,  reflecting  still  His  glory 
as  clouds  reflect  the  glorious  light  of  the  sun.  Thus, 
linking  the  present  with  the  past,  the  life  with  the  creed, 


CHRIST  IN  US. 


233 


the  creed  with  the  life,  we  gain  a  certainty,  a  deep,  quiet 
and  simple  certainty,  that  no  arguments,  no  coils  can 
shake,  of  the  truth  of  our  faith.  We  in  our  turn  can 
say  the  word  of  faith  that  has,  from  the  hour  when  first 
spoken,  expressed  the  strength  of  all  Christian  life,  the 
help  and  peace  of  every  Christian  death, — I  know  in  whom 
I  have  believed. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD. 


Preached  on  the  Occasion  of  the  Restoration  of  Peterborough 
Cathedral,  14th  October,  1890. 

"  I  heard  behind  me  a  voice  of  a  great  rushing,  saying,  Blessed  be  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  from  His  place." — Ezektel  iii.  12. 

THESE  words  are  part  of  the  record  of  the  preparation 
of  a  prophet  for  a  prophet's  work.  The  preparation 
of  a  great  prophet  for  a  great  work  is  a  great  crisis  in  the 
history  of  those  to  whom  he  is  to  prophesy.  Ezekiel 
was  the  Prophet  of  the  Captivity.  The  nation  of  Israel, 
in  its  Babylonian  exile,  was  passing  through  the  fire  of 
Divine  judgment  and  chastening, — a  fire  which,  when- 
ever and  wherever  kindled,  is  never  quenched  until  it  has 
done  its  appointed  work  ;  and  that  work  is  either  purifica- 
tion or  destruction.  Through  and  through,  to  the  inmost 
core  of  the  man  or  the  nation  subjected  to  its  operation,  it 
burns  its  way,  consuming  all  that  is  dross,  and  purifying 
all  that  is  gold — if  gold  there  be  to  purify.  If  all  be  dross, 
if  the  whole  being  of  the  man  or  the  nation  has  become 
corrupt  and  vile,  then  must  that  man  or  that  nation  perish 
utterly.  If  there  be  aught  in  him  or  in  it  that  is  good, 
then  will  that,  and  that  only,  come  forth  from  the  ordeal 
the  purer  and  the  brighter  for  its  trial  by  fire. 

The  question,  then — the  terribly  anxious  and  critical 
question — for  the  people  of  Israel,  at  the  moment  of 


238     THE  LIFE  OF  HAN  AND  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD. 


Ezekiel's  vision,  was  how  they  should  stand  this  fiery 
trial.  "Would  they  melt  into  the  surrounding  heathen- 
dom, completing  in  Babylon  the  apostacy  commenced  in 
Jerusalem ;  or  would  they — laying  to  heart  God's  judg- 
ments, understanding  the  day  of  their  visitation — repent 
them  of  their  rebellion  against  Him,  renew  the  covenant 
of  their  nation's  youth  and  with  it  their  nation's  life,  and 
so,  penitent,  reformed,  return  to  the  land  from  which 
their  sins  had  driven  them  ?  This  was  the  question — 
supreme,  momentous — that  was  awaiting  its  solution  when 
Ezekiel  was  sent  to  "  speak  in  the  ears  of  the  people  the 
word  of  the  Lord," — a  word  of  warning,  and  yet  of  com- 
fort and  of  consolation  ;  a  message  which,  if  they  would 
receive  it,  would  renew  their  faith  and  sustain  their  hope 
through  the  long  years  of  captivity  and  exile  ;  but  which, 
if  they  neglected  it,  would  rise  up  against  them  for  their 
condemnation  and  destruction. 

"Well  might  the  awful  responsibility  of  such  a  message, 
at  such  a  moment,  fill  the  heart  of  him  who  bore  it  with  a 
consuming  anxiety.  Well  might  he  go  forth  to  give  it — 
as  he  tells  us  he  did — "  in  the  bitterness  of  his  heart ; " 
the  bitterness  of  sorrow  and  indignation ;  the  bitterness  of 
fear  and  all  but  of  despair.  For  they  to  whom  he  was 
sent  were  a  "  rebellious  house."  As  yet  sullenly  impeni- 
tent, they  seemed  to  have  no  ear  for  warning,  no  heart 
for  consolation.  They  would  not  hear;  they  would  not 
repent.  It  seemed  as  if  they  would  only  provoke  a  fur- 
ther judgment  and  a  final  doom. 

At  such  a  moment,  and  for  such  a  task,  the  Prophet  is 
given  a  special  preparation.  It  was  that  preparation  by 
which  every  true  prophet,  every  one  who  has  to  speak  to 
men  the  word  of  the  Lord,  must  be  fitted  for  his  mission. 
He  saw,  he  tells  us,  "  visions  of  God."  As  he  dwelt  among 
his  fellow-captives  in  their  exile  by  the  banks  of  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD.  239 


Chebar,  he  tells  us  that  "  the  heavens  above  him  were 
opened,"  and  "  the  firmament  above  him  bore  the  likeness 
of  a  throne,  and  the  appearance  therein  was  the  appearance 
of  the  likeness  of  the  glory  of  the  Lord  !  "  Yes  !  he  saw 
that  which  every  man  who  would  speak  of  God  to  his 
fellow-men  must  see,  else  has  he  no  true  message  to  speak 
to  them.  He  saw  the  Lord.  High  above  the  world  and 
the  things  of  the  world,  he  saw  the  throne  of  its  Creator. 
Above  the  angry  and  scornful  presence  of  his  fellows,  he 
saw  the  presence  of  their  Ruler  and  their  Judge.  Beyond 
the  darkness  and  the  gloom  of  their  earthly  condition,  he 
beheld  the  light  and  the  glory  of  Heaven.  And  in  the 
brightness  of  that  light,  the  misleading  mists  and  shadows 
of  this  lower  world  fled  away,  and  he  beheld  things  as 
they  are,  not  as  they  seem.  The  world  powers  that 
loomed  so  large,  shrank  to  their  true  proportions.  Great 
Babylon,  and  her  might  and  her  magnificence,  seemed  to 
him  but  as  the  small  dust  in  the  balance.  Tbe  angry, 
threatening  voices  of  his  countrymen  were  unheard  in  the 
rushing  of  the  great  wind  that  swept  him,  in  the  spirit, 
upwards  and  onwards,  to  the  foot  of  the  great  white 
throne.  The  fear  of  the  Lord  so  filled  his  heart  that  it 
had  no  room  for  the  fear  of  man.  His  face  was  made  "as 
adamant  and  as  flint "  against  the  wrath,  or  the  threats, 
or  the  scorn  of  men.  He  saw  them  not ;  he  heeded  them 
not.  He  had  seen  visions  of  God.  Thenceforth  he  was  to 
"  endure  as  seeing  Him  that  is  invisible  !" 

But  there  was  for  him  not  only  a  vision,  but  a  voice, — a 
voice  which  gave  him  his  mission,  and  which  told  him  his 
message.  And  he  records  for  us,  in  our  text,  the  last 
utterance  of  that  voice,  which  was  sending  him  out  upon 
his  path  of  difficulty  and  of  danger  ;  the  last  word  he  was 
to  hear  as  the  vision  closed,  to  cheer  and  strengthen  him 
as  he  went  forth  to  accomplish  his  mission  upon  earth,  not 


240      THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD. 


in  the  brightness  and  the  glory  of  Heaven,  but  in  the  dull 
light  of  common  day. 

He  heard  a  voice  behind  him  "  as  the  sound  of  a  great 
rushing,"  saying,  "  Blessed  be  the  glory  of  the  Lord  from 
His  place !" 

In  these  words  the  Prophet  heard  the  aim  and  the 
motive  of  his  mission, — the  true,  the  only  true  aim ;  the 
true  and  abiding  motive  and  mainspring  of  all  work  for 
God  !  That  motive  is  "  the  glory  of  God."  That  glory, 
which  the  material  world  displays  unconsciously,  this 
moral  world — the  world  of  humanity — should  manifest 
consciously  and  designedly.  This  is  the  one  true  and 
only  aim  of  all  our  lives;  that  which  includes,  while 
it  purines,  exalts,  sanctifies,  all  other  and  lesser  aims  and 
motives. 

Not  for  himself,  not  even  for  his  fellow-men ;  but 
simply,  singly,  wholly  for  the  glory  of  his  Maker  is  man 
called  upon  to  live  and  work  on  earth.  This  was  the  one 
sole  aim  of  the  one  perfect  human  life  which  is  our 
example.  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  Highest"  was  the  song 
that  ushered  in  its  birth.  "  Father,  I  have  finished  the 
work  Thou  gavest  me  to  do ;  I  have  glorified  Thee  on 
earth,"  is  the  word  with  which  it  closes.  "  Whatsoever 
ye  eat  or  drink,  or  whatsoever  ye  do,  do  all  things  to  the 
glory  of  God,"  is  the  law  that  should  rule  all  Christian 
life  and  all  Christian  work  for  God. 

Doubtless,  in  that  aim  are  included  the  lesser  and  lower 
aims  of  our  own  happiness  and  that  of  our  fellow-men. 
For  the  glory  of  God  is  not  that  merely  of  a  creator  or  a 
ruler,  but  of  a  Father,  and  His  highest  glory  is  the  final 
happiness  of  the  creatures  He  has  made.  And  therefore  is 
it  that  the  glory  of  God  is  a  blessed  thing — a  thing  for  which 
men  may  bless  His  holy  name,  and  sing  songs  of  thankful 
praise.    For  His  glory  and  their  happiness  are  one. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD. 


241 


But  not  our  happiness,  not  the  happiness  of  others,  but 
that  glory  is  our  first  and  chief  aim.  Nay,  for  that  glory 
— to  promote,  to  manifest  it — we  must  be  willing  to  sacrifice 
our  present  happiness,  and  to  teach  all  men  to  be  ready  to 
sacrifice  theirs.  "We  are  not  to  live — we  are  not  to  teach 
men  to  live — as  if  present  ease  and  enjoyment  and  phy- 
sical comfort  was  the  be  all  and  end  all  of  human  existence. 
We  are  not  to  teach  them  that  man's  life  consisteth  in  the 
abundance  of  the  things  that  he  possesseth  ;  still  less  that 
the  sole  mission  of  the  Church  amongst  them  is  to  turn 
stones  into  bread.  We  are  to  teach  them  that  men  may 
glorify  God  by  self-denial,  by  self-sacrifice,  by  patient 
suffering.  We  are  to  teach  them  that  as  there  may  be 
danger  in  wealth,  so  there  may  be  a  blessing  in  want ;  for 
that  not  physical  comfort  here,  but  eternal  perfection 
of  glory  in  Heaven  with  God  is  the  true  aim  of  man's 
existence. 

To  take  this  idea  out  of  our  work,  this  aim  out  of  oar 
mission,  is  to  turn  the  Church  of  Christ  into  a  sanitary 
club  or  a  philanthropic  association.  It  is  to  divest  life  of 
all  its  highest  aims ;  it  is  to  deprive  wealth  of  its  truest 
enjoyment,  and  rob  poverty  of  its  sweetest  consolation  ;  it 
is  to  substitute  for  the  words — Blessed  be  the  glorj'  of  God 
— blessed  be  the  ease  and  the  pleasure  and  the  physical 
comfort  of  man. 

And  similarly,  this  principle  of  seeking  ever  the  glory 
of  God,  as  it  should  guide  and  elevate  our  social  life,  so  it 
should  guide,  and  elevate,  and  beautify  our  religious  life 
and  our  religious  worship.  Our  religious  life  is  not  to  be 
a  mere  selfish  saving  of  our  souls,  but  a  readiness  to  sacri- 
fice soul  and  body,  if  need  were,  for  the  service  and  the 
glory  of  God.  Our  worship  should  have  for  its  aim — not 
merely  the  edification  of  the  worshippers,  but  the  honour 
and  the  glory  of  Him  they  worship.    Take  this  element 

R 


242      THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLOEY  OF  GOD. 


out  of  religion,  and  the  life  becomes  timid  and  unfruitful, 
and  the  worship  poor  and  mean  as  its  own  low  ideal.  Snug 
comfort,  dull  respectable  decency,  mean  economy — dis- 
guising itself  as  spiritual  simplicity — will  be  the  best  and 
the  highest  outward  expression  it  can  reach  to.  Not  such 
the  spirit  that  actuated  those  who  built  such  noble  shrines 
as  that  in  which  we  this  day  worship.  For  the  accom- 
modation, the  spacious  and  comfortable  accommodation 
of  the  monks  of  Peterborough,  a  neat  and  appropriate 
unadorned  building,  comfortably  weather-tight,  would 
have  sufficed.  But  they  had  nobler  aims.  It  was  in  their 
hearts  to  rear  a  temple  for  the  honour  and  the  glory  of 
God.  For  that  they  held  nothing  too  great,  too  rich,  too 
rare.  They  secured  art  in  its  perfection,  architecture  in 
its  magnificence,  wealth  in  its  profusion,  to  do  homage  and 
service  in  the  court  of  their  great  King.  They  planned 
nobly,  because  they  thought  nobly.  The  glory  and  the 
beauty  of  their  work  that  we  contemplate  to-day,  has,  then, 
for  us  this  its  perpetual  lesson,  utters  its  enduring  protest, 
against  the  low  commercial  spirit  of  utilitarianism  in  reli- 
gion, whether  in  its  outward  and  material  expression,  or 
in  its  inner  spirit  and  aim.  It  makes  for  us  its  mute  and 
yet  its  ever-speaking  proclamation  of  the  great  truth — 
that  we  must  cast  self  out  of  our  service  of  God ;  that  we 
must  count  nothing  too  good,  too  rich,  too  rare  to  be 
devoted  to  Him.  It  speaks  to  us  to-day  its  great  sermon 
in  stone — Blessed  is  the  aim,  blessed  is  the  end  and  com- 
pletion of  man's  life,  even  the  glory  of  God  ! 

But  the  Prophet  heard  this  voice  from  behind  him.  It 
followed  him  as  he  departed  from  the  scene  of  his  vision. 
Surely  in  a  scene  in  which  all  is  minutely  and  elaborately 
symbolic,  in  which  every  sight  and  sound  has  evidently  its 
own  appointed  meaning,  it  is  not  without  significance  that 
this  voice  does  not  precede  but  seems  to  follow  the  Prophet 


THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD.  243 


from  behind  ;  speaks  of  the  scene  he  is  to  remember  in  the 
past,  and  not  of  tbat  which  awaits  him  in  the  hereafter ; 
speaks,  that  is  to  say,  not  of  tbe  future  but  of  the  pad  ! 

For  is  it  not  the  voice  of  the  past  that  still  must  give  to 
the  prophet  courage  and  strength  for  the  duties  of  the 
present  ?  The  present  has — must  have — its  difficulties,  its 
dangers,  its  discouragements ;  the  future  its  uncertainties, 
its  doubts,  its  fears.  The  past  alone  has  for  us  its  assured 
certainties.  Its  voices  tell  us,  not  of  what  we  may  hope 
and  believe  that  God  is  doing  now,  or  will  do  hereafter, 
but  of  what  He  has  done  in  the  unchangeable  past.  Of 
this  there  is  no  question,  concerning  this  no  doubt.  The 
past,  with  its  records  of  Divine  promises  fulfilled,  Divine 
deliveries  granted,  Divine  mercies  vouchsafed,  Divine 
covenants  kept,  gives  faith  and  courage  for  the  present, 
hope  for  the  future.  The  sun  may  seem  to  us  setting  sadly, 
gloomily,  as  in  the  dull,  doubtful  twilight,  our  footsteps 
wander  and  slip  as  we  descend  into  the  low-lying  valley 
where  lies  the  day's  march  of  our  life.  We  see  the  earth- 
born  mists  rise  often  thick  around  us,  and  we  grope  and 
guess  our  way,  full  often  doubtfully  and  wearily.  But  as 
we  look  back  "  to  the  hills  whence  cometh  our  strength," 
as  the  high  mountain  peaks  of  the  past  rise  clear  and 
sharp  above  us,  bathed  in  the  glowing  light  of  the  sun 
that  gilds  and  glorifies  their  summits  ;  as  our  fathers  tell 
us  of  the  noble  works  that  God  hath  done  in  their  days 
and  in  the  old  times  before  them,  we  thank  God  and  take 
courage ! 

So  was  it  assuredly  with  this  great  Prophet,  as  he  went 
forth  to  his  work  for  God.  In  his  ears  must  have  sounded 
voices  of  the  past.  The  voice  that  of  old  called  the 
patriarch  from  his  tent  to  look  upon  the  stars  above  him, 
gleaming  and  glittering  in  the  glory  of  the  Eastern  night, 
and  told  him  that  his  seed  should  be  as  those  stars  for 


244     THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD. 


multitude — the  voice  that  claimed  of  old  from  a  tyrant 
king  the  deliverance  of  God's  enslaved  and  oppressed 
people,  saying,  "  Let  my  people  go  that  they  may  serve 
me  " — the  voice  that  in  the  hour  of  their  direst  extremity 
cleft  for  them  a  passage  through  the  waters  of  the,  sea 
which  engulfed  their  enemies — the  voice  that  spoke  in 
thunder  from  Sinai  the  law,  on  their  obedience  to  which 
was  to  depend  their  possession  of  the  promised  land — the 
voice  which  cheered  and  guided  the  people  of  God  through 
all  their  desert  wanderings — the  voice  which,  speaking 
through  the  lips  of  Judge  and  Prophet  and  Righteous 
King,  still  promised  victory  and  safety  as  the  reward  of 
righteousness,  and  warned  of  destruction  as  the  punish- 
i  ment  of  sin — a  punishment  which  came  as  surely  as  the 
setting  followed  the  rising  sun — these  voices  from  the 
past  must  have  filled,  as  with  "  the  sound  of  a  great  rush- 
ing," the  ears  of  the  Prophet,  as  he,  too,  in  his  turn,  went 
forth  to  speak  to  God's  people  of  the  God  of  their  Fathers 
— the  God  of  Abraham,  and  of  Isaac,  and  of  Jacob — the 
God  who  had  never  yet  forsaken  His  people  who  trusted 
in  Him,  nor  yet  failed  to  punish  them  when  they  rebelled 
against  His  law  and  rejected  His  covenant. 

And  so  must  it  ever  be  with  the  Church  in  all  the 
difficulties  or  discouragements  or  dangers  of  the  present. 
She  may  still  hear,  and  take  courage  as  she  hears,  the 
voices  of  the  past.  The  voices  that  Ezekiel  and  his 
brethren  of  the  Prophets  heard,  she  hears  too.  The  long, 
long  story  of  Divine  faithfulness  and  power  and  love, 
bearing  with,  over-ruling,  helping  still  the  unbelief,  the 
weakness  of -men.  But  how  those  voices  of  the  past  have 
swelled  and  deepened  since — what  a  mighty  sound  of  a 
great  rushing  is  in  our  ears — as  to  the  story  of  the  Israel 
of  old  we  add  the  story  of  the  new  Israel  of  God — the 
people  whom  He  has  granted  as  the  inheritance  of  His 


THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD.  245 


Son,  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Voices  from  Bethlehem 
and  Calvary,  and  the  Garden  of  the  opened  Tomb ;  the 
voice  which  sent  the  Church  on  her  mission — "  Gro  ye 
into  all  the  world  ;  "  the  voice  which  promised  her  the 
continued  presence  of  her  Lord — "  I  am  with  you  even  to 
the  end  of  the  world;"  the  voices  of  the  multitude  at 
Pentecost,  when  in  many  tongues  the  representatives  of 
every  nation  under  heaven  sang  the  prophetic  triumph- 
song  of  the  Church;  the  voices  of  prophets,  apostles, 
evangelists,  telling  out  among  the  heathen  that  the  Lord 
is  King !  In  the  creeds  that  sum  up  and  express  the 
eternal  verities  of  the  Faith  ;  in  liturgies  that  breathe  the 
hopes  and  aspirations  of  believing,  suffering,  sorrowing, 
yet  trusting  souls  ;  in  psalms  and  songs  of  exultation  that 
tell  us  of  victory  over  the  world  achieved  beneath  the 
banner  of  the  Cross  ;  in  lives  of  saints,  in  death-songs  of 
martyrs,  comes  still,  age  after  age,  year  after  year,  hour 
after  hour,  deepening  its  voice  with  the  deepening  of  the 
night,  from  one  and  all  the  great  lesson  of  the  past — the 
lesson  of  endurance  in  the  present,  and  hope  for  the  future. 
It  is  the  voice  which  tells  us  how,  through  all  the  succes- 
sive ages  of  her  history,  spite  of  difficulty,  of  danger — 
spite  of  the  rage  of  her  enemies,  the  faults  and  the  errors 
and  the  sins  of  her  own  children — spite  of  assaults  of 
unbelief  and  errors  of  heresy — spite  of  sinful  schism  and 
sad  internal  strife — spite  of  waxing  sin  and  waning  love 
— spite  of  all  that  from  time  to  time  has  hindered  her 
work,  has  even  seemed  to  threaten  her  existence,  the 
Church  of  Christ  has  lived  on  till  now ;  lived  by  the 
power  of  a  Life  which  is  not  hers — lived  by  the  might 
of  a  present  Christ  and  indwelling  Spirit — lived  to  say, 
as  surely  we  say  this  day — not  boastfully,  but  humbly, 
for  the  sustaining  power  is  not  ours ;  penitently,  for  we 
know  how  unworthy  we  are  of  that  presence  ;  tremblingly 


246      THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLOEY  OF  GOD. 


even,  for  we  know  how  awful  the  responsibility  which 
that  presence  entails ;  but  still  hopefully,  still  believ- 
ingly,  still  resolutely, — "Surely  the  Lord  is  with  us  still ; 
surely  when  we  pass  through  the  waters  He  will  be 
with  us ;  surely  though  the  water  floods  rise  high  they 
shall  not  overwhelm  us ;  surely  if  we  seek  it  we  shall 
bave,  as  those  who  have  gone  before  us  have  had,  help 
from  the  sanctuary,  strength  for  the  day's  toil,  though  it 
be  weary ;  patience  for  the  day's  trial,  though  it  be 
sharp ;  deliverance  from  the  day's  danger,  though  it  be 
threatening — surely  we,  too,  shall  have  cause  to  say,  in 
uur  turn,  '  Blessed  be  the  glory  of  the  Lord  from  His 
place,'  from  the  dwelling-place  He  has  chosen,  from  the 
Church  of  His  love,  His  temple  here  on  earth  ! " 

But  while  we  listen,  and  rejoice  to  listen,  to  the  voices 
of  the  great  past  of  the  Catholic  Church,  there  is  surely 
one  voice,  one  note  in  that  great  rushing  sound,  which 
should  ring  clear  and  loud — it  is  the  voice  of  our  own 
English  past — it  is  the  witness  of  our  own  English  Church 
to  the  presence  and  the  glory  of  her  Lord.  In  our  ears 
to-day,  as  we  gather  together  in  this  noble  temple,  on  the 
site  where  for  twelve  centuries  English  Christianity  has 
had  a  home  and  a  sanctuary,  there  sound  voices  of  the 
past — of  a  far  distant  past — which  yet  lives  and  moves 
and  has  its  being  in  the  present,  moulding,  shaping, 
impelling  onwards  the  life  and  the  work  of  the  Church  of 
our  own  day. 

Let  us  listen  to  some  of  these  voices,  and  learn  to 
interpret  and  apply  their  message  to  us  now. 

We  worship  to-day  on  the  site  of  a  mission  chapel.  It 
was  a  mission — a  Church  mission — which  twelve  hundred 
years  ago  gathered  here  to  plant  the  standard  of  the  Cross. 
The  church  they  built,  whose  foundations  lie  beneath  our 
own,  was  the  home — the  Medehampstead — "  the  home  in 


THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD.  247 


the  meadows  "of  a  band  of  Christian  missionaries  to 
what  was  then  English  heathendom.  The  Christianity 
of  their  day  was  an  aggressive  Christianity.  It  was  a 
Christianity  which  owned  and  acted  on  the  great  law  of 
the  Master,  that  it  should  multiply  and  replenish  the  earth 
that  He  had  redeemed,  and  subdue  it  for  Him — a  Chris- 
tianity which  went  forth,  in  His  honour,  conquering  and 
to  conquer,  because  it  believed  intensely,  entirely,  in  its 
mission ;  because  it  could  not  rest  while  there  remained 
within  its  reach  souls  that  knew  not  His  name  and  owned 
not  His  law.  The  Christianity  of  that  day  came  to  a 
pagan  England  from  afar,  because  Christians  who  dwelt 
afar  off  claimed  the  heathen  for  their  Lord's  heritage, 
and  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  for  His  possession. 

And  the  record  of  their  mission  work,  the  manner  and 
the  method  of  it,  was  this — that  they  brought  with  them 
the  Church  in  its  integrity  and  entirety.  They  placed, 
in  the  centre  of  the  territory  they  had  marked  out  for 
their  conquest,  the  seat — the  cathedral — of  the  bishop, 
who  was  to  lead  a  band  of  missionaries  to  their  work  for 
Christ.  From  this  centre — this  home  of  Christian  faith 
and  life — from  this  cathedral  they  sent  out  the  missionary 
priest,  here  and  there  as  a  door  was  opened,  who  was  to 
be  sustained  by  the  offerings  of  the  faithful,  from  this 
place,  until  at  last  and  by  degrees  the  missionary  became 
a  pastor,  and  the  parish  grew  out  of  the  diocese.  In  a 
word,  they  made  the  diocese  the  unit  of  their  Church  life 
— the  cathedral  the  core  and  heart  of  their  great  mission 
work,  from  which  encouragement,  guidance,  and  susten- 
ance should  flow  out  to  the  early  missionary  in  his  distant 
post  of  labour.  The  diocese  had  not  only  its  head — the 
bishop — its  hands,  the  clergy ;  it  had  its  heart — the 
cathedral,  from  which  life-blood  flowed  through  all  its 
members.    Yes,  the  voice  which  speaks  to  us  from  this 


248      THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD. 


place  is  the  voice  of  the  missionary,  the  voice  which  pro- 
claims the  ideal  of  Christ's  Church,  that  it  must  be  aggres- 
sive, that  it  must  go  forth  in  the  Master's  name  to  wage 
war  against  all  forms  of  evil  and  unbelief.  For  the  call 
of  Christ  to  His  mission  work  is  as  imperative  and  as  clear 
now  as  ever,  not  merely  to  mission  work  among  the  far- 
off  heathen,  but  the  heathen  at  home  ;  not  merely  to  the 
savage  of  barbarism,  but  the  savage  of  civilization.  There 
are  parts  of  England — alas,  that  it  should  be  so  ! — where 
the  name  of  Christ  is  unknown,  and  the  name  of  God 
serves  only  to  point  an  oath  or  a  blasphemy — parts  where 
Christianity  is  not  yet  in  possession.  There  are  others — 
too  many — where  the  stagnant,  careless  life  needs  to  be 
stirred  by  the  breath  of  special  missions.  There  are  evils 
to  be  contended  with,  sins  to  be  denounced,  sufferings  to 
be  redressed,  wrongs  to  be  obliterated,  which  call  for  the 
missionary  spirit  of  the  Church. 

But  it  was  not  only  missionary  work — it  was  united, 
associated,  organised  work,  which  germinated  and  grew 
and  spread  forth  from  this  home  in  the  meadows.  In 
those  days  the  Church  accepted,  wisely  accepted,  the 
help  and  the  service  of  men  who  were  willing  to  live 
together  in  a  common  home,  devoting  their  lives  to  a 
common  purpose,  consecrating  that  life  by  daily  prayer. 
Men  were  not  in  those  days  afraid  of  the  name  of 
brotherhoods,  or  of  vows,  life-long  or  otherwise,  which 
bound  men  together  for  the  service  of  God  and  man.  It 
was  a  brotherhood — a  noble  and  devoted  brotherhood, 
that  reared  this  noble  shrine  to  the  honour  and  glory  of 
God,  and  built,  all  clustered  round  it,  homes  for  those  who 
would  live  for  Him.  It  was  here  that  this  brotherhood 
offered  to  God  their  daily  worship,  proclaiming  to  all 
men  that  prayer  is  labour  ;  telling  us  that  religion  and 
life  for  God  is  not  altogether  preaching  and  platform 


THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD. 


249 


speaking,  nor  benevolent  and  social  effort,  nor  the  advo- 
cacy of  this  or  that  religious  cause  ;  but  that  there  is 
place  in  it,  and  that  place  should  be  found  in  the  Church 
of  Christ,  for  meditation  and  prayer,  for  theological  study 
and  learning,  and  the  quiet  and  deeper  life,  which  does 
not  cry  aloud  nor  utter  its  voice  in  the  streets,  but  which 
may  nevertheless  deeply  influence  and  guide  and  sway 
that  outer  and  busier  life  that  noisily  sweeps  and  surges 
round  it. 

And  yet  it  was  this  very  brotherhood  which  taught  all 
men  that  to  subdue  the  earth,  to  labour  with  honest  and 
skilful  hands  for  daily  bread,  was  work  for  God  too.  As 
they  reclaimed  the  fen  and  drained  the  meadow  and  tilled 
the  field,  as  they  cultivated  the  arts  of  music  and  sculp- 
ture and  painting,  as  they  cherished  literature,  as  they 
taught  the  ignorant,  as  they  succoured  and  relieved  the 
poor,  as  in  the  moral  and  material  wilderness  around 
them  they  made  them  gardens  of  peace  and  culture  that 
blossomed  as  the  rose — they  taught  men  that  Christianity 
has  its  practical  as  well  as  its  meditative  and  ascetic 
side,  and  that  godliness  is  profitable  for  this  life  as  well 
as  that  which  is  to  come ! 

Truly  he  is  but  an  ignorant  and  a  shallow  student  of 
the  history  of  his  nation  or  his  Church  who,  standing 
among  the  ruins  of  the  monasteries,  has  no  word  for  them 
but  a  sneer  at  monks  and  friars,  and  a  pharisaic  com- 
parison of  their  life  with  his  own  of  enlightened  selfish- 
ness and  busy  acquisition  of  wealth. 

Yes !  the  voice  of  the  past  tells  us  of  the  need  of 
united,  of  organised  work,  though  the  form  of  the  organi- 
sation may  vary  with  the  times  and  the  seasons. 

But  there  is  yet  another  voice  from  the  past  that 
is  speaking  loudly  in  our  ears  this  day.  It  is  a  voice,  not 
of  encouragement,  but  of  warning — of  gravest,  sternest 


250    THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLOEY  OF  GOD. 

warning.  Take  but  a  step  from  out  this  nobly- restored 
cathedral,  and  you  stand  amongst  ruins.  The  fragments 
— the  decayed  and  defaced  fragments  of  the  great  monas- 
tery are  all  around  you,  and  no  man  dreams  of  restoring 
them.  Not  only  they,  but  that  for  which  they  existed — 
the  great  brotherhood  that  once  made  them  its  dwelling 
— has  perished.  The  religious  orders,  once  so  powerful, 
have  vanished,  and  their  place  knows  them  no  more. 
How  came  this  to  pass  ?  How  was  it  that  institutions 
which  once  filled  so  large  a  space,  and  played  so  noble  a 
part  in  the  history  of  our  Church,  have  vanished  so  com- 
pletely away,  that  even  these  decaying  fragments  of  their 
homes  have  survived  them  ?  For  this  reason,  that  they 
had  themselves  survived  their  own  ideal.  Because  the 
true  life  that  had  once  animated  them — the  life  of 
service,  of  self-sacrifice — had  all  but  died  out,  and  in  its 
place  had  come  the  spirit  of  self-indulgence,  and  ease, 
and  sloth ;  because  the  ever-accumulating  wealth  which 
the  piety  or  the  superstitious  fears  of  men  had  endowed 
them  with,  had  corrupted,  had  all  but  destroyed  the 
nobler,  simpler  purposes  of  their  earlier  and  better  days  ; 
because  that  for  them  had  come — as  for  every  unjust 
steward  must,  sooner  or  later,  come — the  summons, 
"  Give  an  account  of  thy  stewardship,  thou  shalt  be  no 
longer  steward."  Cruel,  unjust,  rapacious  were  the 
hands  that  executed  this  judgment.  Wickedly  wasteful 
and  sacrilegious  were  the  uses  to  which  most  of  the  plun- 
dered wealth  of  the  monasteries  was  put.  Cruel  and 
impious  as  the  heathen  that  laid  waste  Jerusalem  and  swept 
away  the  treasures  of  her  sanctuary  were  the  spoilers 
of  the  monasteries ;  yet,  like  them,  they  were  but  the 
instruments  of  that  Divine  judgment  which  begins  now, 
as  of  old,  with  the  house  of  God.  The  wealth  that  the 
religious  orders  misused  was  plundered ;  the  opportunities 


THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLOEY  OF  GOD. 


251 


and  powers  for  good  that  they  possessed  were  transferred 
to  other  hands.  The  word  had  gone  forth  against  them  : 
"Take  away  their  battlements,  for  they  are  not  the 
Lord's  ! " 

And  is  not  this  a  lesson  from  the  past  which  we,  in  the 
present,  would  do  well  to  lay  to  heart  ? — a  lesson  which 
teaches  us  that  endowments,  and  rank,  and  privileges, 
rightly  understood,  are  only  other  words  for  duties  and 
opportunities ;  and  that  these  are  all  but  talents  lent  us  to 
put  out  to  usury,  by  the  Lord,  who  will  surely  come  again 
and  yet  again  to  ask  from  us  how  we  have  traded  with 
them ;  and  that  if  He  should  find  us  slothful  servants, 
faithless  stewards,  He  will  find  amongst  our  enemies 
round  about  the  instruments  of  our  punishment.  Surely 
if  tbere  be  a  voice  from  the  past  that  sounds  more  loudly, 
clearly  than  another ;  if  there  be  a  voice  that  should 
ring  in  our  ears,  re-echoed  from  ruined  cloister,  and 
shattered  arch,  and  mouldering  column,  it  is  this:  "  From 
him  that  hath  not  shall  be  taken  away  even  that  which 
he  seemeth  to  have." 

Yet  another  voice  swells  the  rushing  sound  of  the  past 
to-day. 

This  hour  of  desolation  and  of  waste  was  not  the 
darkest  hour  of  the  Church  in  this  place.  No,  not  even 
when  the  darkness  deepened  into  what  seemed,  for  the 
moment,  utter  ruin  and  destruction ;  when  the  worship 
that  for  ages  had  hallowed  this  house  of  God  was 
silenced ;  when  it  became  a  crime  to  minister,  within 
these  walls,  her  sacraments  or  utter  her  prayers ;  when 
rude  hands  made  havoc  of  her  sanctuary ;  when  this 
house  of  prayer  was  turned  into  a  factory,  and  its  sister 
fanes,  throughout  the  realm,  made  to  stable  cattle,  and 
put  even  to  viler  and  nameless  uses, — not  then  was  the 
Church  at  her  lowest ;  not  then  had  her  enemies  triumphed 


252      THE  LIFE  OE  MAN  AND  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD. 


over  her  !  These  were  but  sudden,  violent,  and  yet  pass- 
ing plunderings  and  desolations,  as  were  the  successful 
invasions  of  the  kings  of  the  heathen  round  about  Jeru- 
salem in  the  days  that  preceded  the  Captivity.  From 
these  she  might  and  did  recover,  and  that  speedily.  But 
there  came  an  hour  when  the  Church  did  indeed  enter 
into  a  worse  than  Babylonish  captivity.  It  was  when, 
worn  by  the  fierce  political  and  religious  strife  of  two 
centuries ;  enfeebled  by  the  loss,  in  an  unhappy  schism, 
of  some  of  the  saintliest  of  her  children,  she  slept  the 
dull,  heavy  slumber  of  exhaustion : — when  worldliness 
and  sloth  had  taken  possession  of  her ;  when  she  had 
almost  become  a  mere  establishment,  and  had  all  but 
ceased  to  be  a  Church  ;  days  of  a  servile  hierarchy,  dumb 
pastors,  and  alienated  and  godless  laity ;  days  of  unre- 
buked  sin  and  evil,  of  gross  abuses  cherished  unreproved ; 
days  which  we  read  the  record  of  with  feelings  of  shame 
and  amazement — shame  that  such  things  should  have 
been  ;  amazement  that  the  Church  should  have  survived 
them ! 

In  that  darkest,  saddest,  dreariest  hour  of  her  life,  did 
it  please  God  to  send  to  her  prophets  who  had  seen 
"  visions  of  God,"  and  who  came  in  His  name  to  speak 
His  words  in  the  ears  of  a  careless  world  and  a  slumber- 
ing Church.  Then  it  was  that  the  great  evangelical 
revival  spread  throughout  the  land.  Their  hearts  filled 
with  the  prophets'  shame  and  sorrow  for  the  sin  and 
ungodliness  and  the  evangelist's  loving  zeal  for  the  souls 
of  men,  these  true  prophets  went  everywhere  preaching 
the  Word — preaching  a  living  Saviour  with  words  from 
lips  that  had  been  touched  with  fire  from  the  altar.  They 
taught  again  the  great  evangelical  verities  of  conversion, 
repentance,  faith,  and  love  of  God  and  love  for  man,  and 
as  they  preached  the  old  truths  with  new  zeal  and  new 


THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD.  253 


life,  the  people  heard  them  gladly,  and  a  breath  from 
Heaven  filled  the  dry  bones  of  dull  and  decent  and 
slumbering  orthodoxy,  and  our  Church  revived  and  stood 
upon  her  feet,  and  began  to  stretch  forth  her  hands  once 
more  to  her  Master's  work,  and  to  till  and  to  dress  the 
long-neglected  weed-grown  vineyard  that  He  had  given 
her  to  keep. 

And  when  this  revival — restoring  as  it  did  the  great, 
the  essential  idea  of  the  union  between  the  individual  soul 
and  its  Saviour,  and  the  converting,  sanctifying  work  of 
the  Spirit — had  done  its  work,  then  yet  another  restora- 
tion was  vouchsafed  her  of  forgotten  truths.  Then  there 
rose  up  men  whose  souls  were  filled  with  the  thought 
that  Christ  had  come  to  found  on  earth  a  visible  society 
— that  as  there  was  a  life  of  individual  souls  with  Him 
and  He  in  them,  so  was  there  a  corporate  life  of  the 
Church  with  Him  and  He  in  her.  Then  the  idea  of  His 
sacramental  life  of  the  Church,  and  all  that  flows  from  and 
out  of  it,  revealed  itself  once  more  to  men.  Men  began  to 
stand  upon  the  ancient  ways,  and  seek  for  the  old  paths  ; 
and  sought  to  make  their  Church — as  their  predecessors 
had  sought  to  make  the  individual  soul — a  living  temple, 
blessed  Avith  the  manifested  glory  of  the  Lord !  This 
idea,  too,  like  all  great  and  true  ones,  found  its  outward 
and  visible  expression.  Restored  churches,  bright  and 
beautiful  services,  frequent  sacraments,  devout  confirma- 
tions replaced  the  neglected  and  half-ruined  edifices,  the 
dreary  and  often  mutilated  worship,  the  cold,  bare,  per- 
functory rites  of  the  past.  The  Church  had  awoke,  and 
had  put  on  once  more  her  garment  of  praise  for  the  spirit 
of  heaviness  ;  and  again  men  had  come  to  understand,  as 
they  witnessed  this  revival,  spite  its  excesses,  spite  its 
extravagances — when  was  there  ever  zeal  and  enthusiasm 
without  extravagances  ? — that  they  were  witnessing  a  real 


254 


THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD. 


outpouring  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  a  Pentecostal  revival  of 
His  Church,  and  they  blessed  the  glory  of  the  Lord  from 
His  place. 

In  this  revival,  in  this  restoration,  the  cathedrals  of 
our  Church  have  had  their  share.  Beginning  first, 
as  we  have  seen,  with  individual  souls,  and  spreading 
onwards  to  their  parochial  life,  to  the  parish  and  the 
church — rising  still  upward — it  reaches  at  last  our  cathe- 
drals ;  and  there,  too,  surely  it  has  made  its  mark.  We 
see  it  not  only  in  such  restorations  as  we  see  here  to-day, 
not  only  in  the  sweeping  away  of  vulgar  excrescences  that 
disfigured  them,  or  hideous  erections  that  concealed  their 
exquisite  proportions,  and  made  them  as  ugly  as  it  was 
possible  for  things  so  intensely  beautiful  to  be  ;  the  re- 
stored cathedral  has  been  put  once  more  to  its  true  uses. 
It  has  opened  its  doors  to  the  people,  it  has  filled  its 
sanctuary  with  stately  services,  and  its  great  nave  with 
crowds  who  listen  to  the  voices  of  >>the  great  preachers  of 
our  day.  Alas  !  that  the  voice  of  the  greatest  of  them 
should  be  no  longer  heard  amongst  us.*  No  longer  do 
men  ask,  with  contemptuous  curiosity — What  is  the  use 
of  cathedrals  ?  No  longer  do  they  see  a  great  building 
— with  its  vast  capacities  for  worship  and  for  teaching — 
turned  into  the  private  chapel  of  the  Precincts,  where, 
snugly  ensconced  in  a  dusty  citadel  of  pewdom,  a  few 
highly  privileged  ecclesiastics  discharged  the  double  func- 
tion of  ministers  and  congregation  ;  performing  services 
in  which  there  were  few  to  share,  and  preaching  learned 
sermons  which  only  lacked  hearers  to  be  edifying.  And 
yet  another  restoration  seems  even  now  to  be  approach- 
ing,— a  moral  restoration,  too,  in  the  regaining  of  the 
thought  that  a  cathedral  is  not  a  building  simply,  but  an 
institution  ;  a  part — and  a  most  important  part — of  the 

*  This  reference  is  to  the  death  of  Cinon  Liddon 


THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD. 


255 


spiritual  life  of  the  internal  administration  of  the  Church ; 
that  Dean  and  Chapter  and  Canons,  are  not  merely  officers 
of  a  cathedral,  but  of  a  diocese  ;  that  they  should  be — 
may  be,  if  old  ideas  are  carried  out — the  council  of  the 
Bishop,  the  teachers  of  the  people,  the  helpers  of  the 
parish  priest — the  centre  and  core  of  diocesan  life  and 
work.  Much,  very  much  has  yet  to  be  done,  ere  this 
ideal  be  realised.  Yet  it  is  the  ideal  which  is  before  men's 
minds,  the  ideal  towards  which  we  may  work,  the  end  for 
which  we  may  strive  and  pray  ! 

Thus,  brethren,  we  see  some  of  those  lessons  from  the 
past,  those  sermons  in  stones,  which  your  cathedral  is 
preaching  to  you  this  day.  It  tells  us  that  our  Chris- 
tianity, our  Christian  life  and  work,  must  still  be  an 
aggressive,  a  united,  a  reformed  and  ever  self-reforming, 
a  restored  and  ever  self-restoring  Christianity  :  not  rest- 
ing in  indolence,  not  working  in  isolation  ;  not  clinging 
obstinately  to  the  past  and  refusing  the  change  that  the 
present  needs  ;  and  yet  not  recklessly  and  hastily  adopt- 
ing every  novelty,  that  has  in  its  favour  the  cry  of  the 
hour  :  bringing  forth,  rather,  things  old  and  new ;  old 
truths  in  new  aspects,  old  principles  with  new  applica- 
tions, old  ideas  with  new  methods ;  strong  and  yet  flexible ; 
firm  and  yet  elastic  ;  adapting  herself  ever  to  the  varying 
needs,  never  to  the  varying  wishes  and  fancies  of  the  age 
in  which  she  lives :  reforming  with  unsparing  hand, 
whatever  of  old  defect  or  new  fault  she  may  discern  : 
restoring  still,  with  wise  and  loving  hand,  all  that  is 
good  in  the  past — not  by  servile  and  misplaced  imitation, 
but  by  wise  and  skilful  adaptation  :  in  all  her  efforts,  in 
all  her  work  and  labour,  still  filled  with  one  aim  and  one 
only,  the  glory  of  her  Master  and  her  Lord. 

If  He  of  His  great  mercy  should  grant  us  thus  to  labour 
and  to  live  for  Him,  we  too,  in  our  day  and  generation, 


256      THE  LIFE  OF  MAN  AND  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD. 


shall  have  done  something  for  His  honour,  something  too 
for  which  those  who  succeed  us  may  bear  us  in  kindly 
remembrance.  Much  they  will  doubtless  see  of  error  and 
of  failure.  They  will  learn  from  our  mistakes,  and  profit 
by  our  faults.  Still  they  may  see — nay,  let  us  resolve 
that  they  shall  see — in  our  lives,  in  our  work  that  which 
shall  help  and  encourage  them  in  theirs.  Still  may  our 
voices  be  allowed  to  mingle  with  the  ever-deepening  rush- 
ing voices  of  the  past,  as  we  too  say,  with  those  who  are 
gone  before  us,  to  those  who  come  after  us,  "  Blessed  be 
the  glory  of  the  Lord  from  His  place,  now  and  for  ever- 
more." 


THE  CHRISTIAN  IDEAL  OF  HUMAN  LIFE. 


8 


THE  CHRISTIAN  IDEAL  OF  HUMAN  LIFE. 


"Forgetting  those  things  which  are  behind  and  reaching  unto  those 
things  which  are  before." — Phtlippians  iii.  13. 

FORGETTING  the  past !  Who  can  forget  it  if  he 
would  ?  Does  it  not  live  in  the  present  ?  Does  it 
not  shape  and  foreshadow,  and,  alas !  too  often,  over- 
shadow, all  our  future  ?  Does  it  not  haunt,  and  follow, 
and  waylay  us — starting  up  before  us  unbidden,  unde- 
sired  often — loved  or  hated,  lovely  or  odious,  sad  or  joy- 
ous— but,  in  whatever  sbape  or  aspect,  the  still  living,  the 
undying  past  ? 

Forget  the  past !  Who  would  forget  it  if  he  could  ? 
Who  is  there  who  would  purchase  forgetfulness  of  all  its 
pains  by  forgetfulness  of  all  its  delights  ?  Who  is  there 
who  would  raze  out  all  its  written  troubles  from  his  brain, 
and  "  pluck  its  rooted  sorrow  "  from  his  heart,  if  with 
these  he  must  also  raze  and  root  out  all  that  head  and 
heart  recall  with  such  sweet  and  tender  affection  ?  Who 
would  forget  the  loss  of  the  loved  one,  if  with  that 
memory  were  to  vanish  the  memory  of  all  the  interwoven 
life  and  love  that  made  that  loss  so  bitter  ?  Who  would 
erase  the  epitaph,  that  love  comes  again  and  again  to 
deepen  and  engrave  afresh,  if  with  it  he  must  destroy  the 
recollections  that  win  the  sorrowing  presence  of  that  love? 
Who  is  there  who  would  not  say  that  oolivion  is  too  great 
a  price  to  pay  for  escape  from  the  very  saddest  recollec- 


260        THE  CHRISTIAN  IDEAL  OF  HUMAN  LIFE. 


tions  of  the  past  ?  They  rise  before  us,  not,  as  we  once 
knew  them — dark,  terrible,  shrouded  all  in  gloom  and 
mystery  of  sorrow  ;  but  with  their  rugged  outlines  soft- 
ened, their  deep-lying  shadows  lost  to  view  "  like  mountain 
ranges  over-past  in  memory's  distance  fair."  Spare  us, 
oh,  spare  us  still — with  all  their  pains,  with  all  their 
sorrows — the  bitter-sweet  memories  of  the  past !  We 
would  not  lose  them  if  we  could.  Thank  God,  thank  our 
loving  and  merciful  Father,  that  He  has  so  ordered  it  for 
us  that  we  cannot  lose  them  if  we  would. 

And  yet  the  Apostle  tells  us  that  he  aimed  at  forgetting 
them,  or,  rather,  that  he  so  ordered  his  life  that  he  could 
not  help  forgetting  them.  He  was,  he  tells  us,  like  the 
racer  who,  in  his  swift  race,  sends  before  him  the  glance 
that  discerns — the  hands  that  reach  out  before  his  flying 
feet — in  his  eagerness  to  reach  the  mark  of  the  prize  of 
his  high  calling.  And  he  sets  himself,  in  this  respect,  as 
our  example ;  he  exhorts  us  in  like  manner — "  forgetting 
those  things  that  are  behind  to  reach  out  unto  those 
things  that  are  before." 

What  does  this  mean  ?  Not,  certainly,  a  literal  forget- 
fulness  ;  that,  we  have  seen,  is  neither  possible  nor  desir- 
able ;  but  a  comparative  forgetfulness — such  disregard  of 
the  past  as  is  caused  by  the  intensity  of  the  desire  and 
effort  for  something  in  the  future  ;  that  urges  us  onwards 
and  onwards,  as  though  the  past,  as  though  the  present, 
were  not ;  outweighing,  in  its  attractiveness,  alike  the 
memories  of  the  past  and  the  cares  of  the  present,  so  that 
we  see  these  as  those  who  see  them  not,  and  know  them  as 
those  who  know  them  not,  in  the  eagerness  with  which 
we  press  forwards  and  onwards  to  the  prize  that  is  to 
crown  the  winner ! 

Such  is  the  ideal  of  the  Christian  life  as  set  before  us  by 
one  whose  race  was  well-nigh  run  ;  by  one  whose  eventful 


THE  CHRISTIAN  IDEAL  OF  HUMAN  LIFE.  261 


past  must  have  been  full  of  wonderful  memories,  and 
whose  present  must  have  been  crowded  with  overwhelm- 
ing duties  and  anxieties,  but  for  whom  the  wondrous 
past,  the  anxious  present,  were  as  things  that  were  not 
and  had  never  been,  in  the  view  of  that  future  which  he 
was  yet  to  attain  unto. 

Such  an  ideal  has  in  it  an  element  that  distinguishes 
it  from  all  other  ideals  that  men  form  to  themselves  of 
human  life.  It  is  that  element  of  proportion,  which  is  a 
known  essential  to  all  perfection  of  design.  No  picture, 
however  vivid  its  colouring,  however  exquisite  its  beauty 
of  detail,  can  ever  be  perfect,  if  it  lacks  this  condition  of 
due  and  harmonious  relation  between  all  its  parts.  With- 
out this,  it  lacks  the  one  thing  essential  to  perfect  art, 
and  that  is  truthfulness.  It  may  be  vivid,  striking, 
fascinating  even,  but  it  is  untrue. 

Now — as  we  claim  for  the  Christian  ideal  of  life  that 
it  is  the  truest,  noblest  form  in  which  life  can  exist — let 
us  test  the  truth  of  this  ideal  by  comparing  ifc  with  some 
of  those  that  men  frame  for  themselves  who  have  no 
thought  of,  and  no  care  for,  that  mark  of  the  prize  of  the 
high  calling  which  Christianity  sets  before  us,  and  let  us 
see  how,  in  this  matter  of  true  and  perfect  proportion,  it 
compares  with  these. 

And — taking  these  in  the  order  of  time — there  is,  first, 
the  Youth's  ideal  of  life.  In  that,  the  past  can  have  but 
little  share.  Life  for  the  young  lies  mainly  in  the  future; 
the  golden  glory  of  its  sunrise  shines  all  before  him,  no 
shadows  of  the  past  yet  cast  upon  his  path.  He  "reaches 
forward  "  in  eager  anticipation  of  the  prizes  that,  he  firmly 
believes,  life  has  in  store  for  him.  Wealth,  fame,  pleasure, 
happiness,  all  beckon  him  onwards  as  he  sets  himself,  in 
the  exultant  strength  of  his  youth,  to  run  the  race  in  which 
he  promises  himself  he  shall  full  s"rely  prove  a  winner. 


262       THE  CHRISTIAN  IDEAL  OF  HUMAN  LIFE. 


And  those  who  are  older — those  who  have  tried  for  these 
prizes  and  failed,  or  who  have  won  them  and  found  how- 
unsatisfying  they  are  at  the  best — look  on,  and  smile 
sadly  at  illusions  that  once  deceived  and  hopes  that  have 
failed  them.  They  know,  as  he  will  yet  know,  what  the 
present  has  to  teach  us  of  the  vanity  of  human  wishes  and 
the  folly  of  human  expectations.  They  know  how  these 
dreams  of  the  morniog  vanish  like  mists  in  the  heat  of  the 
weary  day ; 

"  How  the  vision  of  dawn  is  leisure, 
But  the  truth  of  day  is  toil, 
And  we  wake  from  dreams  of  pleasure, 
To  face  the  world's  turmoil." 

They  can  tell  the  young  man  that  his  ideal  of  life  is  false, 
because  it  is  so  largely  coloured  by  the  hues  of  a  future 
which  exists  but  in  his  imagination,  and  that  the  time  will 
come  for  him,  as  it  has  for  them,  when  memory  will  tone 
down  all  these  high  colours  of  hope,  and  when  care  and 
sorrow  and  disappointment  shall  claim  him  as  their  pupil, 
and  teach  him  the  old,  old  lesson,  which  every  child  of 
Adam  has  to  learn  sooner  or  later — "  Vanity  of  vanities, 
all  is  vanity." 

And  then  there  is  the  Man's  ideal  of  life,  and  that  is 
mainly  of  the  present.  The  cares,  the  anxieties,  the  toils, 
the  ambitions,  the  hard  realities  of  this  every-day  work- 
ing world  ring  him  round  so  closely  that  he  neither  looks 
far  back  nor  far  before  him.  He  is  too  busy  to  indulge 
in  memories  of  the  pleasant  past,  or  in  da}'  dreams  of  an 
imaginary  future.  Sufficient  for  each  day,  as  it  comes, 
are  its  daily  tasks  and  daily  trials,  and  he  must  be  a  whole 
man  for  these.  Sentiment,  whether  of  memory  or  of 
imagination,  is  all  very  well  for  the  old,  who  must  live 
in  the  past,  or  the  young,  who  may  live  in  the  future. 
He  must  live  and  work  and  suffer  in  the  real,  earnest, 


THE  CHRISTIAN  IDEAL  OF  HUMAN  LIFE.  263 


toilsome  present.  When  he  was  young,  he  had  his  imagi- 
nation ;  when  he  shall  be  old,  he  will  have  his  recollec- 
tions ;  but  now  he  has  his  work  and  he  must  give  himself 
all  to  that,  and  yet,  even  as  he  does  so,  he  feels  how 
small,  how  hard,  how  dull  an  ideal  of  life  is  this,  bounded 
all  as  it  is  within  the  narrow  horizon  of  to-day.  He  feels 
how  heart  and  soul  grow  dwarfed  and  starved  in  the  dull 
unromantic  work  of  daily  bread-winning. 

He  thinks  sadly,  when  he  has  time  to  think  at  all,  of 
youth's  light-hearted  hopefulness,  or  of  the  quiet  restful- 
ness  and  peace  of  old  age,  and  then  he  sets  himself,  with 
a  sigh,  to  tug  again  the  weary  oar  to  which  he  is  chained. 
Forgetting  in  his  weariness  the  things  that  are  behind, 
and  having  little  heart  to  picture  to  himself  a  future  that 
may  never  come,  he  toils  on  against  the  stream  which  is 
still,  spite  of  his  efforts,  bearing  him  on  whither  he  knows 
not.  Such  is  not  a  cheerful  picture  of  life,  and  yet  it  is 
life  as  thousands  of  weary  workers  know  it,  who  have  no 
mark  of  a  high  calling,  no.  sense  of  vocation  to  ennoble 
their  merely  animal  existence.  Clearly  such  an  ideal  lacks 
proportion,  the  present  usurps  it  nearly  all ;  it  wants  alike 
the  brightness  of  youth  and  the  calmness  of  old  age.  It 
is  untrue,  because  in  it  neither  past  nor  future  has  its 
proper  place. 

And  then,  there  is  the  Old  Man's  view  of  life.  For 
him  the  past  predominates  over  both  the  present  and  the 
future.  The  visions  of  youth  have  long  vanished,  the 
struggles  of  manhood  are  over,  his  place  in  this  world,  for 
good  or  evil,  is  fixed  beyond  his  power  to  change  it ;  his 
future  here,  at  its  longest,  can  be  but  a  little  span,  and 
his  hopes,  his  interests,  his  ambitions,  if  he  have  any  left, 
are  sinking  within  that  narrow  limit.  Naturally  his 
thoughts  turn  backwards  to  the  past  ;  his  treasures  lie 
there,  and  his  heart  is  with  them ;  he  dwells  amongst  the 


264       THE  CHRISTIAN  IDEAL  OP  HUMAN  LIFE. 


scenes  of  his  youth,  with  friends  whose  voices,  long 
hushed  and  still,  are  still  living  voices  for  him.  He  lives 
over  again  the  joys  and  the  sorrows,  the  failures  or  the 
triumphs  of  his  riper  years.  The  stir,  the  bustle,  the 
fever-strife  of  life  all  round  him  have  almost  ceased  to 
interest  and  only  fatigue  him  ;  more  and  more  the  quiet 
restfulness  of  the  past  attracts  him  from  the  cares  of  the 
present  and  the  anxieties  for  the  future,  that  distract  and 
harass  younger  men.  The  world  may  be  going  ill  or 
well — if  ill,  it  will  not  be  for  a  very  long  time  that  he 
will  suffer  from  it,  and  he  cannot  make  it  any  better — if 
well,  those  who  come  after  him  will  enjoy  it :  but  for  him 
it  matters  little  how  things  go.  The  days  have  come  for 
him  in  which  he  "  has  no  pleasure."  All  he  asks  from 
the  present  is  to  be  left  alone  with  the  past,  of  which  he 
is  so  soon  to  become  a  part. 

And  so  the  Old  Man,  if  he  be  uncheered  by  hope  be- 
yond the  grave  wbich  he  is  approaching,  moves  towards 
it  with  averted  eyes,  turned  backward  ever  to  the  youth 
that  revives  not,  to  the  manhood  that  comes  not  again ; 
to  lost  loves  and  vanished  joys,  that  are  now  nearly  all 
that  link  him  to  the  life  he  wearies  of,  yet  dreads  to 
quit. 

Such  is  life,  as  seen  by  those  runners  in  life's  race, 
before  whom  hangs  no  mark  of  the  prize  of  a  higher  call- 
ing, that  attracts  the  gaze  and  quickens  the  eager  feet  of 
him  who  sees  the  crown  laid  up  for  him  in  Christ,  and, 
seeing  it,  reaches  forward  still  to  claim  and  grasp  it. 

Blot  from  the  eyes  of  faith  this  goal  of  life's  race,  and 
what  is  it  all  but  a  race  upon  a  stage,  aimless,  unreal,  its 
racers  actors  all,  who  fret  and  pant  their  little  hour  to 
win,  if  they  do  win,  crowns  which  are  but  tinsel  at  the 
best? 

How  truly  has  it  all  been  summed  up  in  the  words  of 


THE  CHRISTIAN  IDEAL  OF  HUMAN  LIFE.  265 


one  whose  feet,  in  our  day,  were  among  the  foremost  in 
life's  race,  and  whose  outstretched  hands  were  filled, 
at  last,  with  prizes  beyond  the  dreams  of  even  his 
ambitious  youth,  and  who  tells  us,  as  he  reviews  it  all, 
that  "  Youth  is  an  illusion ;  manhood  a  struggle ;  old 
age  a  regret !  " 

And  now  let  us  view  this  race  of  life  from  the  Christian 
stand-point.  Let  us  look  on  it  in  the  light  of  that  crown, 
glorious  and  unfading,  that  is  set  before  him  who  so  runs 
that  he  may  obtain.  So  viewed,  life  is  seen  in  its  true 
proportions  ;  its  successive  parts  fall  each  into  their  true 
place  and  right  relation  to  the  rest.  Its  aim  is  the 
Eternal  Life,  beyond  the  changes  and  chances  of  this 
mortal  existence;  "life  at  God's  right  hand,  and  plea- 
sures for  evermore  " — a  crown  of  life,  not  indeed  to  be 
won  without  a  struggle,  and  yet  that  shall  reward  the 
toiler  as  no  earthly  crown  can  ever  do. 

Past,  present,  future,  from  such  a  view,  take  each  their 
true  and  proper  place.  Its  future,  more  glorious  than 
ever  rose  before  the  eyes  of  the  Youth,  corrects  and  sub- 
dues his  vision  of  life,  subordinating  it  all  to  its  infinitely 
greater,  nobler  promises.  It  tells  him  that  those  dreams 
of  life's  morning,  in  which  he  is  delighting,  are  but  the 
unconscious  aspirations  of  the  soul  after  that  life  which 
alone  can  realise  its  longing.  It  tells  him  that  the  glow- 
ing colours  in  which  he  paints  his  future — too  sure,  alas, 
to  fade  into  the  light  of  common  day — are  but  the  pale, 
far-off  reflection  in  the  mirror  of  the  soul  of  the  glories  of 
its  true  heritage :  "  for  eye  hath  not  seen  nor  ear  heard, 
neither  have  entered  the  heart  of  man  the  things  that 
God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  Him."  It  bids 
him  aspire,  but  with  a  higher  aspiration  ;  hope,  but  with 
a  more  glorious  hope ;  aim,  but  with  a  nobler  ambition 
than  ever  filled  his  heart  and  soul  with  those  earth-born 


266       THE  CHRISTIAN  IDEAL  OF  HUMAN  LIFE. 


hopes,  aspirations,  ambitions,  that  time  may  ultimately 
blight,  and  that,  in  any  case,  death  must  bring  to  naught. 

Again,  for  the  Man  of  middle  life,  it  has  a  word  that 
frees  him  from  the  tyranny  of  the  present  with  all  its 
dull  monotony  of  toil.  It  tells  him  that  "  this  daily 
round,  this  trivial  task,  may  yield  him  all  he  needs  to 
ask,  room  to  deny  himself,  a  road  to  bring  him  daily 
nearer  God."  It  tells  him  tbat  in  a  life  lived  all  for 
God,  there  can  be  nothing  trivial  or  contemptible,  for  in 
all  that  life  God  lives  ;  that  its  every  duty,  even  the 
smallest,  rightly  performed,  is  fitting  him  for  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  rest  that  remaineth  for  the  people  of  God  ; 
that  its  every  thought  rightly  thought,  its  every  deed 
rightly  done,  is  the  weaving  of  another  thread  in  the 
wedding  garment  he  shall  wear  at  the  great  feast,  where 
he  shall  sit  down  together  with  his  Lord.  And  so  it 
gives  to  life,  even  the  poorest,  meanest,  weariest,  an 
interest,  a  dignity,  a  beauty  all  its  own.  It  sheds  over 
all  the  conynon  ways  of  life  a  light  that  is  not  of  this 
world,  a  "light  that  never  was  on  sea  or  land,"  a  light 
in  which  life,  transformed,  wears  already  the  hues,  ex- 
ceeding glorious,  that  it  shall  wear  in  the  world  where 
there  shall  be  no  shadow  of  darkness,  for  the  nations  that 
dwell  there  "  walk  in  the  light  of  the  Lamb." 

For  the  Old  Man— for  him  whose  race  is  all  but  run — 
it  shows  near,  all  but  within  his  grasp,  the  crown  for 
which  he  has  striven.  A  few  more  steps,  feeble  though 
they  be,  and  his  outstretched  hands  shall  touch  the  goal. 
And  if,  at  times,  the  past  should  win,  as  it  surely  will,  the 
old  man's  backward  glance — if,  spite  of  the  nearness  and 
the  blessedness  of  the  life  that  is  to  come,  he  turns,  as  he 
will  full  oft,  a  longing,  lingering  look  behind — yet  shall 
that  past  speak  to  him  of  the  joys  his  future  has  in  store. 
For  all  along  it,  as  he  looks,  he  can  discern  how  through- 


THE  CHRISTIAN  IDEAL  OF  HUMAN  LIFE.  267 


out  it  all  there  went  with  him  the  guiding,  helping, 
saving  presence  of  bis  Lord  ;  how,  at  this  or  that  critical 
moment  in  his  life,  his  steps  were  guided  in  the  way  that 
he  knew  not ;  how,  when  "  his  treadings  had  well-nigh 
gone  and  his  footsteps  well-nigh  slipped,"  he  was  upheld 
in  the  path  of  righteousness  ;  how,  when  he  had  fallen 
grievously,  he  was  raised  again ;  how,  again  and  yet 
again,  the  dark  waters  that  seemed  to  bar  his  path  were 
cleft  before  him ;  how,  through  mists  of  error,  and  beneath 
clouds  of  doubt  and  fear,  an  unseen  hand  still  "  led  him 
on  "  ;  and  as  he  retraces  the  long  wilderness  journey  of  the 
past — as,  at  every  step,  at  every  turn,  he  sees  fresh  proof 
of  the  unfailing  love,  the  unerring  wisdom  that  has  guided 
all  his  ways — he  gathers  from  that  past  its  lesson  of 
assured  faith  and  hope  for  the  future.  The  Valley  of  the 
Shadow  that  he  is  nearing  affrights  him  net.  Light  from 
the  past  shines  through  it  and  beyond  it,  and  "  angel 
faces  smile  that  he  has  loved  and  lost  awhile."  The  Lord, 
whom  he  has  followed,  stands  on  the  far-off  shore  and 
beckons  him,  and  he  knows  Him  for  the  Lord  who,  all  his 
life  long,  has  blessed  him  with  His  loving  presence.  And 
so — forgetting  in  the  blessedness  of  that  vision  the  things 
that  are  behind — forgetting  the  sorrows,  the  sins,  the 
trials,  the  failures,  the  disappointments,  the  weariness  of 
way  by  which  he  has  come,  he  "  reaches  forward  to  the 
things  that  are  before,"  even  to  the  joy  of  his  Lord  into 
which  he  is  about  to  enter. 

So  past,  present,  and  future  find  their  true  place  and 
true  relation  in  the  Christian  ideal  of  human  life,  the  past 
with  its  memories,  the  present  with  its  duties,  the  future 
with  its  hopes,  all  working  together  for  good  for  those 
who,  setting  aside  "every  weight,  and  every  sin  that  doth 
so  easily  beset  them,  run  with  patience  the  race  set  before 
them  "  by  Him  who  holds  for  them  the  prize  of  that  race, 


263       THE  CHRISTIAN  IDEAL  OF  HUilAX  LIFE. 


the  crown  "incorruptible,  undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not 
away." 

With  this  thought  in  our  hearts,  with  this  sure  and 
certain  hope  before  our  eyes,  let  us  in  this  dawn  of  the 
new  year,  face  without  fear,  nay,  with  confident  trust  and 
hope,  whatever  of  duty  or  of  trial  it  may  have  in  store 
for  us.  Duty  and  trial  it  will  surely  bring,  and  sorrow 
too,  perhaps,  to  us  and  to  those  who  may  be  called  to 
sorrow  with  us,  or,  it  may  be,  for  us !  But  as  its  days 
and  months  roll  on,  one  thing  it,  assuredly,  will  bring  to 
each  of  us,  the  nearer  presence  of  our  Lord.  Let  us 
resolve  to  realise  that  presence  in  all  we  say  and  do,  or 
suffer  or  enjoy  ;  to  live  for  Him  now,  so  that  we  may  live 
with  Him  hereafter  ;  to  forget,  at  His  bidding,  all  that  in 
past  or  present  would  draw  away  our  hearts  from  Him  ; 
to  do  our  day's  work,  patiently,  manfully,  hopefully ;  and 
to  trust  him,  absolutely  and  entirely,  with  our  future. 
Let  this  be  the  aim  of  our  life,  the  purpose  of  our  hearts 
in  this  new  year,  and  in  all  of  life  that  He  may  grant  us 
in  years  to  come. 


THE  LAW  OF  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT  AND 
THE  LAW  OF  THE  NEW. 


THE  LAW  OF  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT  AND 
THE  LAW  OF  THE  NEW. 


Preached  at  Windsor,  November  30,  1890  (First  Sunday  in  Advent) . 

' '  When  He  came  down  from  the  mountain  gTeat  multitudes  followed 
Him.  And  hehold  there  came  a  leper  and  worshipped  Him,  saying, 
Lord,  if  Thou  wilt,  Thou  canst  make  me  clean.  And  Jesus  put  forth 
His  hand  and  touched  him,  saying,  I  will,  he  thou  clean ;  and  imme- 
diately his  leprosy  was  cleansed." — Matthew  viii.  1-4. 

THE  mount  from  which  our  Lord  descended  to  work 
this  miracle  of  healing  was  the  Mount  of  the  Beati- 
tudes. It  was  the  place  from  which  He  spoke  that  great 
discourse,  prefaced  by  a  sevenfold  blessing,  fraught  with 
blessings  to  all  who  hear  and  keep  its  sayings,  which  we 
call  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount, — that  discourse  in  which 
Christ,  our  Lord  and  King,  proclaims,  for  us,  the  law  of 
that  divine  society,  that  Kingdom  of  God  which  He 
came  to  establish  upon  earth. 

As  the  scene  of  that  sermon  rises  before  us,  in  all  its 
sweet  attractiveness  ;  as  we  picture  to  ourselves  that  hill, 
with  its  grassy  slopes,  all  bathed  in  the  glory  of  the 
eastern  sunset,  on  which  were  gathered  round  the  Lord 
the  band  of  His  disciples,  listening,  with  lowly  reverence, 
to  His  words ;  as  we  see  its  lower  levels,  thick  crowded 
with  the  multitudes  who  waited  for  His  coming  down  to 
help  and  to  heal  them,  we  are  reminded,  by  contrast,  of 
another  mountain  and  another  lawgiving ;  a  mount,  all 


272 


THE  LAW  OF  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT 


shrouded  in  deepest  darkness,  shot  through  with  gleams 
of  fire ;  the  mount  even  to  approach  which  was  death ; 
the  mount  on  which  stood,  in  solitary,  isolated,  unseen 
community  with  God,  the  great  lawgiver  of  the  Jews, 
and  from  which  he  descended,  but  not,  as  Christ,  to  heal 
and  to  bless,  but  to  denounce  and  to  punish,  to  dash 
from  his  hand,  in  indignation  at  the  sin  of  the  multitudes 
that  greeted  his  descent,  the  tables  of  their  law  ;  to  send, 
in  judgment  of  their  wickedness,  the  destroying  bands 
who  avenged  their  apostacy  and  their  sin. 

No  two  scenes  can  be  imagined  more  unlike,  more 
strangely  contrasted,  than  that  of  the  lawgiving  of  Mount 
Sinai  and  the  lawgiving  on  the  Mount  of  the  Sermon — 
no  two  advents  more  strangely  dissimilar  than  the  advent 
of  Moses  and  the  advent  of  Christ. 

And  yet  they  are  alike  in  this — that  they  are  both 
revelations  of  law,  advents  of  lawgivers  ;  both  foundings 
of  a  divine  society ;  both,  too,  fraught  with  blessings  for 
those  who  heard  and  who  obeyed  the  laws  there  pro- 
claimed, and  both,  too,  fraught  with  punishment  for  those 
who  heeded  not  or  who  disobeyed  those  laws.  For  the 
society  which  Moses  founded  was,  assuredly,  a  blessing, 
God-given,  to  the  world.  It  was  the  training  of  a  nation 
whose  God  was  to  be  the  Lord,  whose  laws  were  laws  of 
righteousness,  which  might  raise,  and  did  raise  them,  to 
a  level  of  happiness  above  all  nations  upon  earth.  Not 
all  terror  and  wrath,  and  not  all  cloud  and  darkness  was 
this  coming  of  the  law  to  God's  people  of  old.  This 
Mount  of  Sinai — could  they  but  have  kept  the  law  that 
came  from  it — was  for  them  a  Mount  of  Beatitudes. 
Moses  was,  as  Christ  was,  the  preacher  of  a  great  Sermon 
of  Righteousness,  fraught  with  blessings  for  those  who 
heard  and  kept  its  sayings. 

Aud  on  the  other  Mount  this  sermon,  this  law  of 


AND  THE  LAW  OF  THE  NEW. 


273 


Christ,  had,  and  has,  its  sterner,  and  even  its  awful  side. 
This  law,  which  our  Lawgiver  proclaims  for  us,  has 
its  sanctions,  and  its  penalties  too.  If  he  that  hears 
Christ's  words  and  does  them  is  like  to  the  house  on  the 
rock,  he  that  hears  them  not  is  like  to  him  who  builds 
upon  the  sand.  If  he  perished  without  mercy  who  dis- 
obeyed the  law  spoken  in  thunder,  how  much  more  surely 
shall  punishment  overtake  him  who  disobeys  the  law 
given  from  the  Mount  of  the  Beatitudes. 

Those  words,  those  helpful,  guiding,  gracious  words  of 
Christ  are,  as  He  tells  us,  testing  and  accusing  words 
— words  which,  He  tells  us,  shall  judge  us  in  the  last  day 
— judge  us  all  the  more  searchingly  because  of  their  very 
graciousness  and  helpfulness,  if  we  are  not  won  by  their 
graciousness,  and  if  we  care  not  for  their  helpfulness. 

If  the  law,  then,  had  its  hidden  blessings,  unseen  in 
the  gloom,  unheard  in  the  thunders  of  its  first  revealings, 
so,  on  the  other  hand,  has  the  Gospel  its  terrors,  unseen 
in  the  brightness,  unheard  in  the  low,  sweet  breathing  of 
its  first  utterances,  ,but  there,  all  the  same,  as  truly  as 
were  the  lightnings  and  the  thunderings. 

What  is  it,  then,  that  constitutes  the  real  difference 
between  these  two  scenes — these  two  advents — apparently 
so  unlike  in  all  their  surroundings,  and  yet,  apparently, 
so  identical  in  all  their  inner  and  essential  significance  ? 
Why  should  one  lawgiver  be  surrounded  by  all  that  is 
terrible  and  awe-inspiring,  the  other  by  all  that  is  gra- 
cious and  attractive  ? 

Now,  in  the  first  place,  the  reason  certainly  is  not  that 
Christ  has  proclaimed  to  us  an  easier  law  than  that  of 
Moses.  On  the  contrary,  His  laws  are  far  harder  of 
fulfilment,  setting  before  us,  as  they  do,  a  far  higher  ideal 
of  life ;  reaching,  as  they  do,  far  deeper  into  our  very 
innermost  hearts  and  consciences  than  ever  did  the  older 

T 


274 


THE  LAW  OF  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT 


law.  No  one  can  read,  with  any  attention,  the  laws  of 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  far-reaching,  profoundly 
spiritual,  all-embracing  as  they  are,  exacting  from  us 
self-denials,  self-sacrifices,  such  as  the  old  law  did  not  so 
much  as  hint  at,  without  being  tempted  to  say,  of  one 
after  another,  "  This  is  a  hard  saying,  who  can  bear  it  ? 
who  can  obey  it  ?  who  can  rise  to  such  heights  of  love  to 
God  and  man  as  are  set  before  us  ?  " 

Nor,  again,  is  the  graciousness  and  the  winsomeness  of 
this  advent  of  Christ  and  Christ's  law  to  be  attributed  to 
the  fact  that  He  comes  to  promise  forgiveness  for  the  sin 
of  transgressing  it — that  His  revelation  is  all  of  pardon 
and  of  peace.  For,  not  to  say  what  we  have  already 
seen,  that  His  revelation  is  not  altogether  of  forgiveness, 
that  it  has  its  element  of  punishment  and  of  warning,  we 
may  see,  further,  that  if  it  had  been  a  revelation  of 
forgiveness  simply  and  entirely,  it  had  not  been  a  blessing 
but  rather  a  hurt,  and  a  mischief  amongst  men.  For,  surely, 
the  revelation  that  there  was  henceforth  to  be  no  penalty 
for  sin — that  no  transgression  of  any  law  should  ever 
after  meet  with  just  recompense  of  punishment,  but  all  be 
to  all  men  always  and  freely  forgiven — would  be  the 
establishment  not  of  a  society  of  righteousness  but  of 
unrighteousness — a  society  which  would  really  be  without 
law,  for  laws  without  the  sanction  of  penalties  attached 
are,  in  fact,  no  laws.  A  kingdom  without  law  is  not  a 
kingdom,  it  is  a  chaos — a  chaos,  too,  of  evil,  unchecked 
and  unrestrained,  and,  therefore,  of  misery.  Universal 
and  unlimited  forgiveness  for  every  offence  would,  there- 
fore, be  no  blessing ;  would  assuredly  be  as  great  a  curse 
in  the  divine  as  it  would  be  in  any  earthly  kingdom. 

If,  therefore,  the  new  law  of  Christ  did  not  differ  from 
the  older  law  of  Moses  in  that  it  was  easier  of  fulfilment, 
or  that  it  was  laxer  as  regards  the  penalties  for  its  trans- 


AND  THE  LAW  OF  THE  NEW. 


275 


gre^sion  ;  if  it  be,  as  it  assuredly  is,  both  a  harder  and  a 
higher  law  than  that  of  the  old  covenant,  why  should  the 
one  be  pictured  to  us  as  a  law  of  misery  and  terror,  and  the 
other  of  blessing  and  of  attractiveness  ?  Why,  of  the  two 
lawgivers,  should  Christ  be  so  winning,  Moses  so  terrible  ? 

We  shall  understand  this  if  we  turn  our  attention  to 
the  laws  of  another  kingdom,  which,  equally  with  those  of 
Moses  and  of  Christ,  are  divine.  This  world  in  which  we 
live,  this  kingdom  of  Nature  that  is  all  around  us  and 
with  us,  is  God's  kingdom.  He  has  created  it ;  He  rules 
it,  and  He  rules  it  by  law  !  In  the  whole  realm  of  Nature 
there  is  no  lawlessness.  Every  particle  of  matter,  every 
force  that  dwells  in  it,  exists,  moves,  acts  by  law,  not 
written  but  real,  unchanging,  universal,  never-ceasing 
law.  From  the  circling  of  the  mightiest  planet  round 
the  sun  to  the  dancing  of  the  motes  in  the  sunbeam  ;  from 
the  sweep  and  the  roar  of  the  whirlwind  to  the  softest 
breath  of  the  summer  breeze  ;  from  the  rising  tide  of  the 
great  ocean  to  the  trickling  of  raindrops  over  one  another 
along  the  pane  ;  everything  that  moves  and  lives,  every- 
thing that  exists  and  is,  is  simply  the  product,  the  crea- 
ture, the  slave  of  law. 

To  discover,  to  know  these  laws  is  the  province  of 
science,  and  science  is  every  day  revealing  to  us,  more  and 
more  clearly,  how  uniform,  how  changeless,  how  certain 
— yes,  and  one  thing  more — it  tells  us  how  pitiless 
they  are  !  They  will  not  turn  aside  at  our  bidding  ;  they 
will  not  change,  by  a  hair's  breadth,  their  course  for  our 
entreaties  ;  they  bring  us  now  joy,  now  sorrow,  now 
pleasure,  now  pain.  But  joy  or  sorrow,  pleasure  or  pain, 
comes  to  us  with  a  strange,  terrible  indifference.  These 
great  revolving  wheels  of  the  forces  that  move  the 
universe  will  not  stand  still  because  some  poor  suffering 
mortal  has  been  caught  in  their  jagged  teeth.     The  lawa 


276 


THE  LAW  OF  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT 


of  the  natural  world ;  the  forces  of  the  universe  ;  the  laws 
of  health  that  rule  our  bodies  ;  the  social  laws  that  rule 
the  society  ;  the  moral  law  that  rules  humanity — not  one 
of  these  can  be  braved  or  broken  with  impunity.  Like 
the  spoken  laws  of  Moses  or  of  Christ's  Sermon,  these 
are,  indeed,  full  of  blessings  for  us,  if  we  understand,  if 
we  heed  them.  Like  them,  too,  they  are  fraught  with 
punishment  for  those  who  understand  or  heed  them  not. 

But  there  is  this  difference  between  these  great  laws  of 
the  natural  kingdom  and  the  law  of  righteousness  in  the 
Kingdom  of  Christ — that  when  we  understand  the  former 
we  can  obey  them  as  we  cannot  obey  the  latter.  When 
we  know  that  the  fire  which  warms  may  also  burn,  we 
shun  the  burning  and  we  use  the  warmth.  When  we 
know  that  lightning  kills,  and  yet  that  the  lightning, 
rightly  used,  is  our  servant,  we  protect  ourselves  from  the 
lightning — we  use  it  to  light  up  our  cities^  to  flash  our 
messages  round  the  earth.  We  know  that  the  nature  of 
some  plant  is  poisonous  and  yet  we  employ  it.  We  study, 
that  is  to  say,  the  laws  of  Nature ;  we  obey,  and,  in 
obeying,  find  our  health  and  our  happiness. 

But  this  is  just  what  we  do  not,  and  cannot  do  as  re- 
gards the  law  of  righteousness.  We  may  study  it.  It  is 
not,  like  the  laws  of  Nature,  hard  of  comprehension. 
Everyone  can  understand  to  do  justice ;  to  live  honestly  ; 
to  walk  humbly  with  God  ;  to  love  the  Lord  our  God 
and  our  neighbour  as  ourselves ;  to  do  unto  all  men 
as  we  would  they  should  do  unto  us !  Who  is  there  who 
does  not  understand  these  ?  The  little  child  and  the  wisest 
and  greatest  of  philosophers  see  these  iaws  with  equal 
clearness.  We  feel  them  in  our  hearts  to  be  true  and 
just;  our  conscience  tells  us  these  laws  are  divine,  are 
universal,  are  binding  upon  all.  We  know  them,  we  ad- 
mire them ;  but  can  we  obey  them,  as  we  obey  those  other 


AND  THE  LAW  OF  THE  NEW. 


277 


laws  of  Nature  ?  Can  we  always  do  that  which  we  know 
that  we  should  do  ;  can  we  always  leave  undone  that  which 
we  should  not  do  ?  Do  we  not  know,  everyone  of  us, 
that  we  cannot  do  this — that  we  are  constantly  transgres- 
sing these  laws  ;  constantly  falling  short  of  the  perfect 
and  holy  law  of  God ;  that  there  is  a  law  in  our  members 
— a  law  that  is  ever  bringing  us  into  captivity  to  sin  and 
death  ?  Is  it  not  the  trial,  the  sorrow  of  all  who  try  to 
obey,  to  know  how  often  they  disobey  ?  Do  we  not  know 
by  all  that  we  see  in  the  world  around  us,  that  what  man- 
kind needs  is  not  knowledge  of  what  is  right,  but  the  power 
to  do  right  when  it  is  known  ;  not  law,  but  the  strength 
to  live  lawfully  ?  The  world  has  never  been  without 
moral  law.  "Written,  not  on  tables  of  stone,  but  on  the 
fleshy  tables  of  the  heart,  by  the  finger  of  God,  are  the 
great  commandments  of  His  law.  But  the  disease,  the 
misery  of  humanity  is  that  it  can  see  the  right,  and  yet 
still,  by  some  subtle  warp  and  strain  of  its  nature,  pur- 
sue the  wrong.  The  profligate,  the  vicious,  the  criminal, 
the  sinful  tell  us,  one  and  all,  "/  know — I  know  that  I 
am  not  what  I  ought  to  be.  I  know  that  there  is  a 
higher,  a  nobler,  a  happier  life  than  that  I  am  leading, 
and  yet — and  yet  I  cannot  help  being  what  I  am,  sinful 
and  unhappy." 

Yes,  now  and  ever,  round  about  those  high  places — 
these  moral  elevations — where  moralists,  and  philosophers, 
and  preachers,  and  law-givers  set  forth  high  ideals  of  life, 
gather  still  the  suffering  and  sinning  multitudes — the 
morally  lame  and  halt  and  paralysed,  the  outcast  leper, 
foul  with  the  terrible  disfigurements  of  sin  ;  nay,  the 
possessed  one,  filled  with  evil  strength  that  is  not  his.  and 
raging  against  all  that  would  restrain  him  from  destroying 
himself  and  those  around  him.  For  these  law  is  no  blessing 
— is  no  help  ;  it  seems  only  to  reveal  to  them  how  deep  is 


278 


THE  LAW  OF  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT 


their  fall ;  how  broken  and  shattered  their  whole  moral 
nature  has  been  by  that  fall.  It  shines  on  their  sin  and 
degradation,  as  the  ray  of  sunshine  might  fall  into  some 
deep  mine  where  some  miserable  wretch  lies  perishing, 
but  it  brings  for  him  no  deliverance.  It  lights  up,  with 
a  terrible  clearness,  the  sores  of  Lazarus,  but  it  brings 
him  no  healing.  What  the  world  needs,  what  it  has  ever 
needed,  is  not  laic,  but  life — not  power  to  see  the  right, 
but  power  to  do  it — not  knowledge  of  a  moral  law,  but 
grace  and  power  faithfully  to  fulfil  the  same ! 

And  this  it  was  that  Christ  came  to  give  us.  He  came 
into  this  world,  not  merely  to  give  us  a  higher  law — not 
merely  to  set  us  a  perfect  example  of  obedience  to  that 
law.  Neither  of  these  things  would  have  helped,  still 
less  have  saved  a  world,  which  had,  already,  higher  laws 
than  it  could  obey — a  nobler  example  than  it  could  follow. 
He  came,  He  Himself  tells  us,  to  give  us — not  so  much  a 
new  law  as  a  new  life.  I  am  come,  He  tells  us,  in  words 
that  speak  to  all  time  the  reason  of  His  coming,  I  am 
come  that  ye  may  have  life,  and  that  ye  may  have  it  more 
abundantly.  He  came  that,  taking  to  Himself  our  nature, 
filling  it  with  the  purity  and  the  might  of  His  Divinity, 
He  might  be  the  Creator  of  a  new  humanity,  which  should 
have — what  it  had  lost  by  its  fall — the  power  to  obey, 
from  the  heart,  the  new  law  that  He  revealed.  He  came 
not  merely  to  give  Himself  for  us,  but  to  give  Himself 
to  us  ;  to  dwell  in  the  hearts,  to  live  in  the  lives  of  those 
who  should  receive  Him,  and  so  to  become,  to  us,  as  the 
second  Adam — a  quickening  Spirit — filling  our  whole 
being,  mind,  and  heart,  with  His  own,  so  that  we  should 
become  partakers  of  the  Divine  Nature. 

This  it  is  that  makes  the  essential  difference  between  the 
coming  of  Christ  and  of  Christ's  law,  and  the  coming 
and  the  law-giving  of  all  other  lawgivers. 


AND  THE  LAW  OF  THE  NEW. 


279 


This  it  is  that  makes  His  Sermon,  His  word  of  rule  and 
guidance,  full  of  infinite  blessing,  and  the  Mount  on  which 
it  was  uttered,  a  Mount  of  Beatitudes. 

It  is  that,  unlike  all  other  teachers  of  righteousness, 
He  does  not  merely  take  His  stand  on  some  lofty  moral 
elevation,  and  proclaim  a  high  standard  of  life  to  the 
multitudes  below — that  was  no  new  thing  in  the  world's 
history — but  the  new  fact,  the  blessed  fact  was  this  :  that 
He  alone  of  all  teachers  came  down  from  that  high  place 
to  mingle  with  the  suffering  multitude,  that  never  could 
have  ascended  up  to  Him,  to  heal  their  deadly  disease  of 
sin  that  had  made  it,  hitherto,  impossible  for  them  to  obey 
even  lower  and  laxer  laws  of  life  than  His ;  to  cast  out 
the  spirits  of  evil,  that  possess,  and  distort,  and  rend  our 
poor  humanity ;  to  say  to  these  evil  things,  Depart ;  to 
say  to  their  victims,  Rise  up — be  strong — live  the  lives  of 
those  who,  no  longer  filled  with  evil  spirits,  are  filled 
and  indwelt  by  the  Spirit  of  God  ;  to  touch  with  healing, 
cleansing  hand  the  fever- stricken,  the  blind,  the  paralysed, 
nay,  the  leprous  outcast  from  whom  all  others  shrink 
with  aversion  and  fear  ;  to  say,  I  will ;  be  thou  clean — 
be  thou  strong — be  thou,  in  thy  new  purity,  thy  new 
strength  for  good  and  for  God,  a  new  creature  in  me! 
Well  might  the  scene  of  such  a  law-giving  be  all  bright 
with  a  glory  and  a  beauty  and  a  graciousness  all  its  own  ! 
Well  might  words  of  blessing  prepare  its  utterances — 
seeing  that  words  of  help  and  of  healing  were  to  mark 
its  close  !  Well  might  the  coming  of  such  a  lawgiver 
be  proclaimed  with  songs  of  angels,  and  received  on  earth 
as  glad  tidings  of  great  joy,  because,  on  the  day  on  which 
He  was  born,  there  appeared,  not  merely  a  prophet,  not 
merely  a  preacher  of  righteousness,  but  a  healer  and 
helper — a  Saviour — which  is  Christ  the  Lord. 


280 


THE  LA.W  OF  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT 


And,  when  we  thus  contemplate  the  advent  of  Christ, 
we  see  that  there  are,  for  us,  more  than  one — there  are 
in  truth  many  advents —  many  comings  of  Christ — even 
as  many  as  there  are  sick  and  suffering  souls  to  whom  He 
comes  and  reaches  out  hands  that  heal  and  help.  Not 
only  once,  and  long  ago,  did  Christ  come  amongst  men, 
but  ever  since  then,  and  all  along  the  history  of  men  have 
there  been  comings  of  Christ.  "  Behold,"  He  says,  "  I 
stand  at  the  door  and  knock,  and  if  any  man  open  unto 
me  I  enter  in  and  dwell  there." 

Yes,  to  each — to  all  of  us — our  Saviour  comes  ;  now 
entreating  entrance  to  hearts  too  coldly  closed,  too  slowly 
opening  to  His  knock ;  now  speaking  to  us  His  word  of 
loving  invitation,  "  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  are  weary 
and  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest ; "  now  His 
word  of  solemn,  heart-searching  command,  "Take  up  thy 
cross  and  follow  me  !  "  now  some  great  word  of  mission, 
saying,  "  Go  work  in  my  vineyard ; "  now  placing  to 
our  lips  the  cup  of  sorrow  that  He  drained,  and  bidding 
us  be  baptised  with  the  baptism  of  suffering  which  He 
was  baptised  with — coming,  often  unsought,  unlooked 
for ;  coming  ever  at  our  cry  for  help ;  but  still,  the 
same  Christ,  preacher  of  righteousness,  prophet  of  law, 
*iver  of  life,  and  yet,  let  us  never  forget,  coming,  too,  as 
judge.  For  each  one  of  these  His  comings  tests  and  tries, 
and,  therefore,  judges  those  to  whom  He  comes.  If,  when 
He  knocks  at  the  door  of  the  heart,  it  remains  still  closed  ; 
if,  when  He  calls,  we  refuse  His  invitation  ;  if,  when 
He  bids  us  take  the  Cross,  we  shun  it;  if,  when  He 
tenders  the  cup,  we  put  it  from  us, — then,  for  these  re- 
jections, for  these  refusals,  shall  we  one  day  be  judged, 
and  judged  for  this — that  we  would  not  allow  Him,  who 
shall  judge  us  then,  to  save  us  now.  Surely,  justly  sen- 
tenced by  the  word  "  Depart  from  me"  shall  they  be  who 


AND  THE  LAW  OF  THE  NEW. 


281 


through,  all  their  lives  refused  to  hear  the  words,  "  Come 
unto  me." 

And  while  we,  thankfully  and  reverently,  look  upon 
Him  who  is  at  once  our  Lawgiver  and  our  Lifegiver, 
and  own  Him  in  both  aspects  as  our  only  Saviour,  may 
we  not — ought  we  not  to  learn  from  this  scene  the 
great  secret  of  all  work  for  Him  ?  Even  this,  that  it 
is  not  enough  that  His  disciples  should  preach  to  men 
— nay,  not  enough  that  we  should  set  them  the  example 
of  doing  what  we  preach,  and  being  what  we  tell  them 
they  should  be,  but  that  we  should  do  as  He  did — come 
down  to  them — move  to  and  fro  amongst  them,  touch 
with  healing  and  with  helping  hands  even  the  most  help- 
less, even  the  most  loathsome  of  outcasts,  never  doubting 
but  that,  as  we  do  so,  He  is  with  us,  His  words  of  loving 
invitation  speaking  through  our  lips,  His  hands  strengthen- 
ing ours,  His  divine  and  gracious  power  working  in,  and 
with,  and  through  us,  as,  in  His  name,  we  strive,  each  in 
our  appointed  place,  to  seek  and  save  that  which  is  lost. 

God  grant  to  us,  each  and  all,  many  such  advents  of  our 
Lord ;  advents  which  bring  within  our  Jiearts  and  into 
our  lives,  and  thence  to  the  hearts  and  lives  of  others,  the 
loving,  helping  Christ,  the  teacher,  example,  Saviour  of 
Mankind. 


"  GIVE  AN  ACCOUNT  OF  THY  STEWARDSHIP." 


"  GIVE  AN  ACCOUNT  OF  THY  STEWARDSHIP."* 


Preached  in  Peterborough  Cathedral,  March  8,  1891. 

*'  Give  an  account  of  thy  stewardship,  for  thou  mayest  be  no  longer 
steward." — St.  Luke  xvi.  2. 

WE  call  this  parable  from  which  our  text  is  taken  the 
Parable  of  the  Unjust  Steward,  and  by  that  word 
we  mean  a  fraudulent,  dishonest  steward,  and  such  un- 
doubtedly he  did  become.  Before  this  parable  closes  we 
see  this  man  deliberately  cheating  his  lord,  deliberately 
giving  to  his  lord's  debtors  that  which  he  knew  they  owed 
to  him.  But  he  did  not  become  deliberately  dishonest 
until  the  words  I  have  read  to  you  were  spoken.  Up  to 
the  time  when  his  lord  called  him  suddenly  to  account  he 
had  not  been  apparently  a  deliberately  dishonest  steward. 
He  was  accused  to  his  lord  that  he  had  wasted  his  goods. 
Not  a  purposed  and  continued  fraud  was  this  man,  in  the 
first  place,  guilty  of ;  but  a  long-continued  careless  faith- 
lessness to  his  trust.  He  had  forgotten,  if  he  ever  thought 
of  or  remembered  it,  that  he  was  the  trustee  for  his  lord's 
possessions,  and  he  had  lived  in  carelessness  of  that  trust, 
in  easy  self-indulgence,  neglecting  the  plain  duties  of  it 
until  at  last  the  goods  began  to  perish,  and  then  he  is 
accused  to  his  lord  of  having  wasted  his  goods.  This 

*  This  was  a  farewell  sermon  preached  on  the  occasion  of  leaving  the 
Bishopric  of  Peterborough  for  the  Archbishopric  of  York. 


286     "  GIVE  AN  ACCOUNT  OF  THY  STEWARDSHIP." 


man  was  guilty  of  being  unfaithful  to  his  trust.  It  is 
this,  brethren,  that  gives  the  parable  its  terrible  signi- 
ficance for  us.  For  there  are  not  many,  I  trust,  in  this 
great  congregation  who,  looking  back  upon  their  lives, 
can  charge  themselves  with  long-continued  and  deliberate 
sin  against  light  and  knowledge.  There  are  not  many 
such,  we  trust,  at  any  time,  or  anywhere ;  but  how  many 
may  there  be  who,  looking  back  upon  their  past  life  at 
some  critical  moment,  are  driven  to  confess,  "  I  have  not 
been  faithful  to  my  lord,  faithful  to  my  trust.  My  lord's 
goods  have  not  waxed,  but  waned  in  my  trusteeship.  I 
have  been  negligent,  careless,  and  unfaithful,  and  so  far, 
therefore,  a  dishonest  steward." 

Yes,  brethren,  this  is  the  question  which  each  one  of 
us  has  to  ask  of  himself,  and  of  his  own  life — "What 
manner  of  steward  have  I  been  of  those  things  that  my 
Lord  has  entrusted  to  me  ? "  God  has  given  each 
one  of  us  something  to  do  in  His  household.  I  say  each 
one  of  us,  for  surely  there  is  not  one  of  us  who  has  not 
some  stewardship  in  God's  household  given  to  him,  be  it 
large  or  be  it  small.  Is  there  one  here,  is  there  one 
almost  anywhere,  who  is  so  isolated,  so  helpless  in  his 
life,  that  in  it  he  has  no  power  of  helping  or  serving 
others  ?  My  brethren,  I  say  everyone  of  us  is  in  a  larger 
or  smaller  degree  a  steward  of  the  Lord.  Two  great 
goods,  two  great  gifts  of  God  at  least  are  given  to  every- 
one— one  is  Time,  and  the  other  is  Opportunity.  Time, 
that  fleets  so  swiftly,  and  so  often  unheeded  away — time 
that  passes  by  moments  and  by  days,  and  so  runs  up  to 
years,  and  brings  life  to  a  close,  is  God's  great  trust  to 
everyone  of  us.  And  Opportunity — those  moments  that 
every  man's  life  brings  to  him,  that  are  fraught  with 
blessings  and  help  or  with  hindrance  and  evil  to  his  fellow- 
man,  and  which  may  become  the  means  of  increasing  his 


"give  an  account  of  thy  stewaedship."  287 


Master's  goods  or  of  diminishing  them  ;  those  opportuni- 
ties in  life  that  come  so  often  unrecognised,  or  that, 
although  recognised,  are  allowed  to  pass  by ;  this  time 
which  we  waste  and  kill,  these  opportunities  that  we  are 
so  often  disregarding  and  losing — these  are  the  goods  of 
our  Lord,  and  every  man  has  more  or  less  of  these  and 
every  man  has  to  account  for  them.  The  ancients  pictured 
Opportunity  in  the  figure  of  a  man  covered  with  a  fore- 
lock on  the  front  of  his  head  and  bald  behind.  Grasp 
the  forelock,  seize  the  opportunity  ;  if  not,  it  passed  by 
you,  and  you  had  nothing  to  lay  hold  of.  Opportunity 
is  bald  behind  !  Yes,  time  that  fleets  and  opportunity 
that  passes  never  to  return — these  are  the  gifts  and  the 
stewardship  of  every  one  who  hears  me. 

Brethren,  we  have  to  give  an  account  sooner  or  later  to 
our  Lord  and  Master  of  how  we  have  used  these  two  great 
gifts,  and  many,  ah,  many  another  besides,  but  of  these 
two  surely  every  one  of  us  has  to  give  an  account.  Think 
for  a  moment  of  the  many  stewardships  we  all  of  us  have 
from  time  to  time  given  us,  and  how  the  stewardship  is 
terminated,  now  at  one  time  one  stewardship  and  now  at 
another  time  another.  Is  there  a  more  precious  steward- 
ship than  the  stewardship  of  the  parent  of  the  child  ?  The 
head  of  the  family  who  is  entrusted  with  that  precious 
gift  is  entrusted  with  young  hearts  that,  soft  as  wax  to 
the  touch  of  the  parent's  hand  in  early  years,  may  grow 
harder  as  years  go  on.  Does  the  time  never  come  in  the 
life  of  the  parents  when  the  stewardship  is  terminated, 
when  the  father  or  the  mother  looks  down  where  the  little 
one  is  laid  to  rest,  and  he  hears  the  rattling  of  the  clods 
upon  the  little  coffin  ?  That  closes  a  stewardship,  that 
turns  and  folds  down  a  page  in  the  parents'  account ;  their 
stewardship  here  is  ended,  and  if  they  have  been  un- 
faithful to  this  young  heart,  to  this  young  soul,  they 


288   "give  an  account  of  thy  stewardship." 


will  have  to  answer  for  it  to  its  Father  in  Heaven.  If 
the  life  of  the  young  one  is  spared  and  a  son  grows  up 
into  manhood  or  a  daughter  into  womanhood,  there  comes 
a  time,  too,  when  that  stewardship  is  ended.  There  comes 
a  time  when  his  father  who  has  trained,  or  neglected  to 
train,  the  son  in  the  ways  of  righteousness  and  godliness 
sees  that  son  a  grown  man,  and  no  longer  a  tender- 
hearted and  submissive  child.  A  grown  man  for  good  or 
for  evil  looks  him  in  the  face,  and  his  stewardship  he  feels 
is  closed.  Away  from  the  mother's  care  a  daughter  is 
taken  by  another  hand,  and  there  rests  upon  that  parent 
the  question  :  Have  I  been  faithful  to  my  stewardship  ere 
it  was  closed,  and  I  may  be  no  longer  steward  ?  The  master, 
the  employer,  the  statesman,  the  citizen  who  fills  any 
place  of  trust,  the  pastor  of  his  parish,  all  who  have  any 
charge,  all  who  have  any  duties,  all  who  have  any  power 
or  influence,  all  these  have  some  great  trust  of  their  Lord's 
to  answer  for. 

If  this  be  true  of  all  men,  if  it  be  true  of  each  one  of 
you  in  your  family  and  social  relations,  how  far  more 
deeply  true  is  it  of  the  minister  and  of  the  pastor — the 
man  to  whom  has  been  committed  the  cure  and  the 
government  of  the  souls  of  his  parishioners  for  whom 
Christ  died,  the  man  who  is  a  steward  of  the  manifold 
mysteries  of  God  !  The  good  steward  is  bound,  as  all 
stewards  are,  to  be  faithful ;  is  bound  to  labour  for  men's 
souls  as  one  that  must  give  an  account.  My  brethren  of 
the  ministry,  you  who  are  here  to-day,  you  surely  know 
this.  There  is  not  one  of  you  probably  who  has  not 
experienced  it  in  the  changes  of  your  ministries  as  you 
pass  from  one  pastoral  charge  to  another.  As  you  left 
this  parish  and  went  to  that,  you  must  have  felt  that  you 
were  closing  one  stewardship  even  as  you  began  another. 
And  the  pastor,  if  he  be  a  conscientious  and  faithful 


"  GIVE  AN  ACCOUNT  OF  THY  STEWARDSHIP."  289 


steward,  must  look  back  upon  the  years  of  his  pastorate 
and  ask  himself  :  Have  I  done  my  full  best  for  the  goods 
of  my  Lord,  or  has  there  been  by  fault  or  carelessness  of 
mine  a  waste  of  these  goods  ?  The  thought  comes  back 
upon  the  conscientious  pastor  as  he  is  leaving  his  flock : 
Have  I  given  them  their  meat  in  due  season  ;  have  I  obeyed 
my  Lord's  command,  "  Feed  my  sheep  ;  feed  my  lambs  "  ; 
have  I  been  faithful  to  rebuke  where  rebuke  was  needed  ; 
have  I  been  wise  and  timely  in  counsel  where  counsel  was 
required  ;  have  I  been  loving  and  tender  and  sympathetic 
in  sorrow  where  sorrow  needed  such  sympathy ;  have  I 
been  known  more  in  the  house  of  mourning  than  in  the 
house  of  feasting ;  have  I  been  diligent  in  my  studies 
in  God's  Holy  Word  and  in  instructing  His  people ;  have 
I  been  fearless  in  rebuking  vice ;  have  I  bound  up  the 
broken-hearted  ;  have  I  set  the  prisoners  and  captives  of 
the  Evil  One  free  in  the  Lord's  name  ?  Oh,  if  he  has 
not  kept  his  Lord's  trust,  and  has  to  answer  to  Him  for 
wasted  time  and  wholly  neglected  opportunities,  how 
awful  must  be  his  account !  Even  the  best  of  men,  the 
best  and  most  conscientious  of  pastors,  has  some  such 
moments  as  these,  and  if  he  looks  back  on  his  past  life, 
is  forced  to  the  question :  "What  account  can  I  render  to 
my  Lord  of  my  stewardship  ?  Oh,  thank  God,  brethren, 
that  our  merciful  Lord,  more  merciful  than  man,  is  the 
master  to  judge  us,  not  by  what  we  have  done,  but  by 
what  we  have  striven  to  do. 

And  if  the  account  of  a  single  pastor  as  he  passes 
from  parish  to  parish  be  a  grave  and  a  serious,  and 
even  an  awful  thing  to  think  of,  what  must  be  the 
account  of  the  stewardship  of  him  who  passes  from  one 
diocese  to  another,  as  he  looks  back  over  years,  as  I  do, 
many  in  number  ?  As  he  looks  back  over  a  long  epis- 
copate there  rise  up  before  him  the  duties  and  ihe 

u 


290    "give  an  account  of  thy  stewardship/' 


responsibilities  of  his  office,  and  he  has  to  judge  him- 
self as  one  who  has  to  give  an  account.  He  is  not 
merely  pastor,  but  pastor  pastorum,  the  leader,  the  ruler, 
the  guide,  and  so  far  as  God  may  give  him  grace  to  be 
so,  the  example  to  the  many  pastors  and  the  many  flocks 
in  his  great  diocese.  How  large  the  stewardship,  how 
tremendous  the  responsibility  of  him  who  has  to  govern, 
of  him  who  has  to  correct,  to  restrain,  to  stimulate,  to 
encourage,  to  help,  to  advise,  to  sympathise,  to  rule,  and 
also  to  guide  and  lead  ;  to  be  the  very  mainspring,  if  he 
may  and  can,  of  all  good  works  that  are  being  done  all 
over  his  diocese ;  to  watch  for  occasions  of  helping  those 
who  are  striving  to  serve  their  Lord  ;  to  know  and  to 
recognise,  if  he  can  and  may,  the  work  of  every  individual 
pastor  ;  to  look  upon  the  busy  toiler  in  our  great  towns, 
amongst  the  great  masses  whom  God,  in  His  mysterious 
providence,  is  bringing  thicker  and  thicker  round  about 
the  doors  of  our  Church  ;  to  think  of  and  to  pray  for  the 
pastor  in  some  far-away  and  isolated  country  parish, 
leading,  as  he  thinks,  his  unnoticed  and  unregarded  life 
of  labour ;  to  be  the  first  to  originate,  if  he  may  be 
given  the  wisdom  to  do  so,  some  new  work  for  God  in  his 
diocese,  or  thankfully  to  accept  and  gratefully  to  acknow- 
ledge the  suggestion  of  some  faithful  pastor  for  some  new 
work ;  to  be  the  centre  of  unity,  drawing  together,  if  he 
can,  all  brother  pastors  in  one  band  of  fellow-workers  ; 
checking  party  spirit ;  refusing  to  be  the  Bishop  of  this 
or  that  faction,  and  bringing,  if  he  may,  all  together  as 
brothers  in  unity  ;  to  be  faithful  to  the  laity  of  his  diocese, 
not  fearing  the  frowns  of  some,  nor  caring  to  win  the 
smiles  of  others,  and  remembering  that  God  in  His  pro- 
vidence has  given  him  a  great  place  that  he  need  not  fear 
the  one,  nor  too  slavishly  seek  the  other  ;  then  to  take  his 
place  in  the  senate,  and  there  to  speak  some  words,  if 


"give  an  account  of  thy  stewardship."  291 


God  may  give  him  wisdom  to  do  so,  for  his  Church  and 
Lord ;  then  so  to  feed  his  own  mind  and  soul  in  study  of 
God's  "Word,  and  of  books  of  good  and  holy  men,  that  he 
may  go  throughout  his  diocese  and  preach  to  his  people, 
not  merely  empty  and  vapid  words  of  declamation,  but 
words  that  come  out  of  the  deeper  thoughts  and  deeper 
emotions  of  his  own  mind  and  heart !  All  these  a  Bishop 
is  to  be.  He  is  to  be  the  pastor  of  pastors,  the  ruler  and 
governor,  and  yet  the  servant  of  servants  amongst  his 
brethren,  if  he  would  rightly  discharge  the  office  of  a 
Bishop.  He  that  desires  the  office  of  a  Bishop,  we  are 
told,  desires  a  good  thing,  but  what  is  more,  he  desires,  if 
he  has  the  courage  to  desire  it,  a  very  great  and  a  very 
hard  thing.  He  is  set  in  a  high  place,  a  mark  of  observa- 
tion, it  may  be  for  misconstruction  and  calumny.  Those 
who  are  placed  in  high  places  are  placed  in  slippery  places, 
and  if  their  feet  slip  then  there  is  rejoicing  in  the  camp  of 
the  ungodly.  If  the  standard-bearer  falls  those  who  are 
gathered  together  in  the  hosts  of  evil  against  the  Lord 
shout  with  triumph.  Very  great  and  wearisomely  heavy 
at  times  is  the  charge  that  rests  upon  him  who  is  called 
to  the  office  and  work  of  a  Bishop.  And  there  comes  a 
time  to  such  an  one,  either  at  the  close  of  his  life,  or  as 
it  is  with  me,  in  some  strangely  unexpected  moment  of 
his  life,  the  message,  "  Here  thou  mayest  be  no  longer 
steward ;  this  charge  is  passing  from  thy  hands,  and  is 
being  given  to  another  ;  what  account  hast  thou  to  give 
to  the  Lord  Who  made  thee  steward  ?  "  The  greatest, 
the  wisest,  the  holiest  man  who  was  ever  consecrated  to 
the  office  of  a  Bishop  might  well  shrink  and  tremble  as  he 
looked  back  over  twenty-two  years  of  his  episcopate,  and 
ask,  "  Have  I  wasted  my  Lord's  goods ;  have  I  at  any 
rate,  done  my  best  that  they  should  not  be  wasted ;  have 
I  striven  faithfully,  honestly,  truly,  to  the  best  of  my 


292    "give  an  account  of  thy  stewardship." 


knowledge  and  ability,  and  with,  care  that  my  knowledge 
and  ability  may  be  increased — have  I  striven  to  be  the 
faithful  steward  of  the  manifold  mysteries  of  God  ?" 

If  I  may,  although  reluctantly  as  we  always  should 
speak  of  ourselves,  if  I  may  in  this  my  last, this  my  farewell 
sermon  speak  of  myself,  I  say  this  :  That  as  I  look  back 
over  those  twenty-two  years,  they  are  as  a  mist  that  rolls 
away,  and  I  see  before  me  now  the  scene  when  I  stood 
and  looked  for  the  first  time  as  a  Bishop,  on  the  day  of 
my  enthronement,  upon  the  long  ranks  and  upturned 
faces  of  the  pastors  of  this  diocese  and  the  laity  of  this 
town,  and  said  to  myself,  "  These  are  to  be  my  fellow- 
workers  in  the  time  to  come  for  the  Lord ;  God  grant 
me  grace  to  be  faithful  to  my  high  office  ;  God  grant  me 
grace  to  be  a  true  steward  of  His  mysteries  amongst 
them."  I  do  remember — it  comes  back  to  me  as  I  speak 
— how  at  that  moment  I  said  how  vain  and  useless  it 
would  be  for  me  to  talk  then  and  there  of  plans  that 
might  never  be  carried  out,  hopes  that  might  never  be 
accomplished.  All  I  could  ask  for  was  prayer  that  some- 
thing of  what  I  desired  and  aimed  at  might  be  given  to 
me  for  the  sake  of  others,  and  that  God  might  give  me 
grace  to  finish  my  course  here  with  joy.  Looking  back 
over  those  twenty-two  years  it  is  no  affectation  of  humility 
to  say,  what  every  honest  man  must  say,  who  looks  back 
on  twenty-two  years  of  his  life  and  sees  how  many 
failures,  how  much  time  lost,  how  many  opportuni- 
ties wasted — "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner."  The 
man  who  can  look  back  upon  twenty-two  years  of  his  life 
and  not  find  reason  to  pray  for  mercy  and  forgiveness 
must  be  strangely  ignorant,  strangely  unthoughtful  of  the 
duties  and  responsibilities  of  life.  But  then  I  should  be 
untrue  to  and  should  be  unjust  to  those  many  fellow- 
labourers  who  have  wrought  with  me  during  the  burden 


''GIVE  AN  ACCOUNT  OF  THY  STEWARDSHIP."  293 


and  heat  of  these  twenty-two  years — so  many  of  whom 
have  passed  to  their  rest  and  to  their  account  after  faith- 
ful, noble,  and  self-denying  labours — I  should  be  unjust 
to  them,  I  should  be  untrue  and  unjust,  if  I  may  dare  to 
say  so,  to  my  Lord  and  Master — if  I  did  not  acknowledge 
with  a  thankful  heart  that  He  has  given  us  in  this  diocese 
to  see  not  so  much  of  what  I  have  done  as  of  what  others 
have  helped  me  to  do,  much  work  for  Him,  for  which  we 
may  be  thankful. 

How  many  churches  have  I  seen  in  my  episcopate 
restored  from  squalor  and  unfitness  for  their  glorious 
service  to  beautiful  temples,  from  the  smallest  of  the 
parish  churches  at  whose  restoration  I  may  have  preached, 
to  this  glorious  temple  of  ours,  in  which  I  recently  ad- 
dressed another  such  large  congregation  as  that  I  see 
before  me !  The  work  of  church  restoration  has  gone 
on  nobly  and  largely  in  this  diocese ;  and,  more  than  this, 
the  work  of  church  extension,  for  which  so  many  have 
laboured — and  for  which  I  will  dare  to  say  I  have  striven 
and  planned  and  prayed — in  our  great  towns,  amidst  the 
gathering  masses  of  the  people,  has  also  gone  on  in  like 
manner.  The  Church  has  been  lengthening  her  cords  and 
strengthening  her  stakes,  and  stretching  out  a  loving 
hand,  which  has  been  lovingly  and  willingly  grasped  by 
those  who  are  coming  more  and  more  to  see  that  the 
Church  acknowledges  and  publicly  acts  upon  the  acknow- 
ledgment that  the  masses — that  the  souls  of  the  masses — 
are  the  wealth  and  catholic  heritage  of  the  Church  of 
Christ.  In  our  schools  also  how  thankful  have  I  been  to 
see  the  great  work  of  the  education  of  the  people  rising 
year  after  year  to  a  higher  level,  more  carefully  thought 
out  and  wrought  out.  Not  only  is  secular  instruction 
improving,  but  the  religious  instruction  for  which  we 
really   care,  and  for  which  these  schools  were  really 


294     "  GIVE  AN  ACCOUNT  OF  THY  STEWAEDSHIP." 


founded,  is  carefully  thought  of.  I  have  seen  new  insti- 
tutions, new  means  of  helping  the  clergy  in  their  work, 
the  stirring  work  of  our  mission  clergy,  in  the  duller, 
calmer,  and  somewhat  stagnant  life  at  times  of  country 
parishes ;  I  have  seen  confirmations  grow  in  reverence 
and  earnestness,  and,  as  I  have  watched  them  year  after 
year — and  I  have  laid  hands  on  more  than  60,000  con- 
firmees— I  have  seen  reason  to  thank  God  for  very  careful 
teaching  and  for  very  reverent  bringing  to  that  holy  rite. 
I  have  seen  communions  in  churches  where  they  were 
once  infrequent  and  rare  become  frequent  and  devout. 
All  over  the  diocese  I  have  seen,  and  I  thank  God  that  I 
have  seen  it,  and  I  should  be  unjust  to  those  whose  labour 
this  has  been  if  I  did  not  testify  among  you  this  day  that 
I  have  seen  a  steadily  rising  and  spreading  tide  of  Church 
life,  for  which  I  have  again  and  again  thanked  God,  and 
taken  courage.  And  then  I  can  testify,  and  I  am  thank- 
ful to  be  able  to  do  it,  that  very,  very  rarely  have  I  seen 
any  going  back  or  ebbing  of  that  tide.  Very  rarely  in 
my  experience  has  the  good  pastor  been  succeeded  by  a 
careless  or  unfaithful  one,  but  very  often  in  my  experience 
has  the  less  careful  been  succeeded  by  the  more  careful 
steward  of  the  mysteries  of  God.  Yes,  the  tide  of 
Church  life,  the  standard  of  Church  work  is  distinctly 
rising  here  as  it  is  rising  all  over  England.  The  clergy 
are  more  conscious  of  the  great  work  and  task  they  have 
to  do  ;  the  laity  know  better  what  is  required  of  their 
pastors,  while  they  are  recognising  their  duty  to  help  and 
work  with  the  clergy.  The  right  hand  of  the  Church 
has  been  stretched  out  vigorously  in  years  gone  by,  but 
the  left  hand  is  now  being  freed  from  the  pedantic 
bondage  that  forbade  with  a  jealous  nervousness  the  co- 
operation of  the  laity,  and  they  are  beginning  largely  and 
freely  to  help  us,  not  merely  with  their  money,  which  in 


"give  an  account  of  thy  stewardship. "  295 


times  past  was  thought  the  only  help  a  layman  could 
give,  but  with  time  and  thought,  with  effort,  with  evan- 
gelistic striving  and  working  together  with  the  pastor  in 
the  parish,  and  in  the  councils  of  the  Church.  All  this 
God  has  given  me  to  see,  and  I  thank  God  that  it  has  been 
so.  And  most  deeply  thankful  am  I  to  those  whose 
labours,  whose  efficient,  earnest,  self-denying,  precious 
labours,  have  helped  to  bring  this  about.  Surely  the 
Lord  is  in  the  midst  of  us  ;  surely  there  is  a  blessing  still 
to  be  found  in  this  dear  old  Church  of  ours,  and  the  Lord's 
presence  is  manifesting  itself  among  us  more  and  more 
day  by  day. 

I  have  to  thank  those  who  have  helped  me  in  this  great 
work  of  ours  so  loyally,  so  trustfully,  so  generously,  so 
earnestly.  I  thank  my  many  fellow-labourers  all  over 
this  diocese.  I  thank  those  who  have  shared  with  me  in 
the  government  and  control,  as  well  as  the  labours  of  this 
diocese.  Never  was  there  one  in  high  place  amongst 
others  more  kindly,  more  generously,  more  trustfully 
treated  by  those  over  whom  he  was  called  to  rule ;  and  as 
I  think  of  all  the  clergy  and  the  laity  have  been  to  me,  I 
thank  them  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  for  all  they  have 
been  and  all  they  have  done.  But  I  am  bound  to  do  one 
thing  more,  and  to  say  that  if  amongst  all  these  mauy 
pastors  there  be  one — I  trust  there  are  not  many ;  nay, 
I  am  bold  and  dare  to  say  I  believe  there  are  not  many — 
who  can  say  of  me  that  I  ever  gave  him  just  cause  of 
offence  by  word  or  deed,  then  of  that  man  I  entreat  his 
pardon,  and  ask  him  to  believe  that  the  offence  was  at 
least  unintentionally  given ;  but  on  the  other  hand  if 
there  be  those  amongst  my  dear  brethren  of  the  clergy 
and  amongst  my  brethren  of  the  laity  whom  any  word  of 
mine  has  stirred  to  a  nobler  or  a  higher  life,  or  helped  in 
bearing  the  cares  and  sorrows  of  this  life ;  if  there  be 


296     "  GIVE  AN  ACCOUNT  OF  THY  STEWARDSHIP." 


any  pastor  in  our  great  towns  who  has  bad  encouragement 
and  help  from  his  Bishop ;  if  there  be  any  pastor  in  some 
quiet  parish  who  has  sought  the  counsel  and  the  best 
advice  of  his  Bishop,  and  who  has  had  from  him  the  best 
he  could  give,  then  I  do  entreat  of  all  such  their  prayers 
that  I  may  acquit  myself  as  a  faithful  steward  in  that 
larger  stewardship  to  which  I  have  been  so  suddenly,  so 
wholly  unexpectedly  called.  That  call  coming  as  it  did, 
as  I  have  said,  altogether  unsought,  unbooked  for,  un- 
dreamed of,  I  cannot  but  regard  as  a  call  from  the 
Master  to  larger  work  in  His  vineyard,  and  I  have  obeyed 
it,  not  without  misgiving,  not  without  an  anxious  and 
deep  sense  of  all  the  solemn  responsibilities  that  it  involves, 
but  with  at  least  this  strength  and  comfort  gathered  out 
of  my  twenty-two  years  of  labour  amongst  you — that  I 
do  believe  that  whatever  may  be  the  errors,  whatever 
may  be  the  offences  of  one  who  laboured  to  the  best  of 
his  knowledge  honestly  and  faithfully  amongst  his  people, 
they  will  at  least  recognise  that  he  has  endeavoured 
honestly  and  faithfully  to  serve  them,  and  that  they  will 
forgive  the  fault  and  defect,  and  that  they  will  own  and 
recognise  the  honesty  of  the  motive  and  earnestness  of 
the  desire,  and  that  they  will  win  for  him  by  their  prayers 
some  larger  power  to  help  him  to  serve  them. 

I  know  what  the  kindness — nay,  I  dare  to  say — I  will 
say  it — I  know  what  the  love  of  the  clergy  of  this  diocese 
—  many  of  them — has  been  to  me  ;  and  however 
unworthily  I  have  been  your  pastor  for  so  many  years, 
I  cannot  forget — to  the  latest  moment  of  my  life  I 
never  can  forget,  burnt  into  my  memory  as  it  has  been — 
how  some  years  ago  in  those  hours  that  seemed  to  be 
the  last  of  my  stewardship,  the  loving  message  of 
sympathy,  the  tender  words  of  kindness  that  reached 
those    ministering  around    my   bedside,    nerved  and 


"give  an  account  of  thy  stewardship."  297 


strengthened  them  for  the  weary  and  anxious  task  that 
lay  upon  them.  Never  can  I  forget  the  kind  and 
cheering  reception  that  I  met  with  from  clergy  and 
laity  as  I  came  back  by  God's  great  mercy  to  minister 
amongst  them.  And  now  a  less  sad  and  for  me  a  less 
awful  parting  has  come,  and  I  do  believe,  I  do  trust 
that  I  bear  away  with  me  to  the  great  place  and  office  to 
which  I  have  been  called  the  sympathy  and  regard  of  the 
clergy  and  laity  of  the  diocese,  and  that  they  will  give 
me  at  least  their  earnest  prayers — prayers  for  me,  and 
still  more  prayers  for  the  Church  of  Christ  in  which  I 
have  been  called  to  bear  so  high,  so  anxious,  so  responsible, 
so  difficult  a  trust  and  stewardship.  Brethren,  in  the 
Lord,  and  for  Christ's  sake,  I  bid  you  all  farewell.  The 
Lord  forbid  that  I  should  ever  cease  to  pray  for  you. 
God  grant  that  you  may  always  give  to  me  a  place  in 
your  memory  and  in  your  prayers. 


J  HE  KM), 


^elected  Boo^  for  all 


By  the  late  Archbishop  of  York. 

The  Gospel  and  the  Age. 

Sermons  on  Special  Occasions.  By  the  late  W.  C.  Magee,  D.D., 
Lord  Archbishop  of  York.  Fifth  Thousand.  Large  post  8vo, 
7s.  6d. 

"  Will  arrest  the  attention  of  the  world." — Spectator. 

Growth  in  Grace. 

And  other  Sermons.  By  the  late  W.  C.  Magee,  D.D.,  Lord 
Archbishop  of  York.  Edited  by  his  Son,  Charles  S.  Magee. 
With  Introductory  Note  by  his  Grace  the  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury.   Large  post  8vo,  7s.  6d. 

Christ  the  Light  of  all  Scripture. 

And  other  Sermons.     By  the  late  W.  C.  Magee,  D.D.,  Lord 
•        Archbishop  of  York.   Edited  by  his  Son,  Charles  S.  Magee. 
Large  post  8vp,  7s.  6d. 

Letters  and  Speeches. 

By  the  late  W.  C.  Magee,  D.D.,  Lord  Archbishop  of  York. 
Edited  by  his  Son,  Charles  S.  Magee.  Large  post  8vo, 
7s.  6d. 


By  the  Bishop  of  Winchester. 


The  Disciple  of  Christ. 

By  A.  \V.  Thorold,  D.D.,  Lord  Bishop  of  Winchester.  Crown 
8vo,  5s.  [In  the  press. 


The  Yoke  of  Christ. 

By  A.  W.  Thorold,  D.D.,  Lord  Bishop  of  Winchester.  Eleventh 
Thousand.    Crown  8vo,  5s. 

Contents  : —  Marriage — Illness — Letter-writing — Friends — Money 
— The  Loss  of  Friends. 

'*  Preachers  would  do  well  to  follow  his  example,  and  let  criticism  and  science  alone 
for  awhile.  The  six  essays  which  make  up  the  volume  are  the  ripe  fruit  of  twenty 
years'  meditation,  and  they  have  the  '  nuttiness'  of  age  about  them." 

Saturday  Review. 

The  Gospel  of  Christ. 

By  A.  W.  Thorold,  D.D.,  Lord  Bishop  of  Winchester.  Sixth 
Thousand.    Crown  8vo,  4s.  6d. 

"  May  well  take  its  place  amongst  the  classics  of  experimental  religion." — Record. 


The  Claim  of  Christ  on  the  Young. 

By  A.  W.  Thorold,  D.D.,  Lord  Bishop  of  Winchester.  Third 
Thousand.    Crown  8vo,  2S.  6d. 

"  They  deserve  to  be  ranked  amongst  the  most  remarkable  pulpit  utterances  of 
modern  times.  They  deal  with  living  questions  and  real  dangers  ;  are  simple  and 
yet  powerful  ;  wise,  and  at  the  same  time  uncompromising  in  the  defence  of  a 
supernatural  Gospel.  We  commend  the  work  as  both  timely  and  of  remarkable 
value." — Churchman. 


The  Presence  of  Christ. 

By  A.  W.  Thorold,  D.D.,  Lord  Bishop  of  Winchester.  Nineteenth 
Thousand.    Crown  8vo,  3s.  6d. 


On  the  Loss  of  Friends. 

By  A.  W.  Thorold,  D.D.,  Lord  Bishop  of  Winchester.  Sewed,  3d. 


On  Being  111. 

By  A.  W.  Thorold,  D.D.,  Lord  Bishop  of  Winchester.    Sewed,  3d. 


By  the  late  Dean  of  Wells. 


The  Divina  f  ommedia  and  Minor 

Poems  of  Dante  Alighieri.  A  New  Translation.  With  Biographical 
Introduction,  Notes  and  Essays,  &c.  By  the  late  E.  H.  Plumptre, 
D.D.,  Dean  of  Wells. 

Volume  I. — Life.    Hell,  Purgatory.    Medium  8vo,  2ls. 

Volume  II. — Paradise,  Minor  Poems.    Studies.   Medium  8vo,  2 is. 

"  No  book  about  Dante  has  been  published  in  England  that  will  stand  comparison 
with  Dean  Plumptre's.  He  deserves  the  gratitude  of  all  true  lovers  of  pood  literature 
for  writing-  it.  We  have  nothing  further  to  say  of  it  except  that,  take  it  for  all  in  all, 
the  only  fitting  epithet  we  can  find  for  it  is  1  noble  ' ;  and  that  we  do  most  heartily 
wish  it  all  the  success  which  it  richly  deserves." — Spectator. 

The  Life  and  Letters  of  Thomas  Ken, 

Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells.  Author  of  the  "  Morning  and  Evening 
Hymns."  Based  largely  on  Unpublished  or  Little-known  materials. 
By  the  late  E.  H.  Plumptre,  D.D.,  Dean  of  Wells.  With  Illustra- 
tions by  Whvmper.  Two  Volumes.  New  and  Cheap  Edition,  Demy 
8vo,  I2s.    Original  Edition,  Medium  8vo,  32s. 

"  The  Dean  has  devoted  great  labour  to  this  life  of  '  the  good  bishop,'  and  has  ex- 
hausted almost  all  that  is  to  be  said  of  Ken  and  his  writings.  The  scheme  of  the 
work  is  broadly  comprehensive,  embracing  more  than  a  mere  biography,  and  he  has 
thoroughly  imbued  himself  with  the  spirit  of  his  subject." — Times. 

The  Tragedies  of  Sophocles :  A 

New  Translation,  with  a  Biographical  Essay,  and  an  Appendix  of 
Rhymed  Choral  Odes  and  Lyrical  Dialogues.  By  the  late  E.  H. 
Plumptre,  D.D.,  Dean  of  Wells.  New  and  Cheap  Edition.  Crown 
8vo,  4s.  6d. 

"Let  us  say  at  once  that  Dean  Plumptre  has*  not  only  surpassed  the  previous 
translators  of  Sophocles,  but  has  produced  a  work  of  singular  merit,  not  less  remark- 
able for  its  felicity  than  its  fidelity,  a  really  readable  and  enjoyable  version  of  the  old 
plays."— Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

The  Tragedies  of  ^Eschylos :  A 

New  Translation,  with  a  Biographical  Essay  and  an  Appendix  of 
Rhymed  Choral  Odes.  By  the  late  E.  H.  Plumptre,  D.D.,  Dean 
of  Wells.    New  and  Cheap  Edition.    Crown  8vo,  4s.  6d. 

"Dean  Plumptre  pits  himself  with  more  and  abler  rivals  than  when  he  essayed 
Sophocles ;  and  here,  too,  we  are  of  opinion  that  he  will  be  found  to  hold  his  own." 

Contemporary  Review. 

Spirits  in  Prison,  and  other  Studies 

of  the  Life  after  Death.  By  the  late  E.  H.  Plumptre,  D.D.,  Dean 
of  Wells.  Sixth  Thousand,  Revised  and  Enlarged.  Large  post  8vo, 
7s.  6d. 

u  Of  very  deep  interest  ....  very  clear,  very  candid,  very  learned  ....  a  model 
manual  on  the  subject." — Spectator. 


By  the  Dean  of  Gloucester. 


Dreamland  in  History. 

The  Story  of  the  Normans.    By  H.  D.  M.  Spence,  D.D.,  Dean  of 
Gloucester.     With  numerous  Illustrations  by  Herbert  Railton. 
Imperial  8vo,  2 is. 
"A  happy  thought,  happily  executed."—  Times. 

"Finding  himself  the  guardian  of  a  great  Norman  abbey,  the  Dean  of  Gloucester 
has  busied  himself  in  inquiring  what  manner  of  men  they  were  who  built  it,  and  in 
tracing  its  history.  The  result  is  this  beautiful  volume.  Aided  by  the  skilful  pencil 
of  Mr.  Railton,  the  Dean  brings  before  us,  now  the  mighty  dead  who  have  passed 
away,  now  the  mighty  buildings  that  remain.  The  spirit  in  which  he  writes  gives  an 
additional  grace  to  a  most  charming  book.  Happy  will  the  thoughtful  boy  or  girl  be 
who  gets  it  as  a  Christmas  present,  and  not  less  happy  will  be  the  elders  who  make  it 
the  companion  of  their  next  Norman  tour." — Guardian. 

"  A  volume  which,  alike  from  the  interest  of  its  subject,  the  charm  of  the  narrative, 
and  the  beauty  of  the  illustrations,  is  one  of  the  most  attractive  works  issued  this 
season." — Record. 

By  Archdeacon  Farrar. 

Every-day  Christian  Life ;  or,  Ser- 

mons  by  the  Way.    By  F.  W.  Farrar,  D.D.,  Archdeacon  and 
Canon  of  Westminster.    Sixth  Thousand.    Crown  8vo,  5s. 
"  Altogether  a  kindly,  manly  book,  meeting  a  real  need  of  a  practical,  earnest  age, 
in  an  able,  refreshing,  and  understandable  way." — Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

"  A  book  we  can  thoroughly  recommend  .  .  .  supplies  an  excellent  model  for 
imitation." — Literary  Churchman. 

Truths  to  Live  By.   A  Companion 

Volume  to  "Every-day  Christian  Life."  By  F.  W.  Farrar,  D.D., 
Archdeacon  and  Canon  of  Westminster.  Fourth  Thousand.  Crown 
8vo,  5s. 

"No  theologian  is  better  qualified  to  speak  with  lucidity  of  the  cardinal  tenets  of 
the  Christian  creed.  Canon  Farrar  has  attempted  to  set  forth  those  tenets  1  in  simple 
and  untechnical  language,'  and  he  has  admirably  succeeded." — Daily  Telegraph. 

"  We  may  without  insincerity  say  that  any  one  who  will  carefully  and  reverently 
read  the  book — in  the  same  earnest  spirit  in  which  it  has  manifestly  been  written — 
cannot  fail  to  be  helped  and  strengthened  by  its  manly  pleadings.  The  circulation  of 
the  book  is  bound  to  be  large ;  its  influence  and  its  value  are  bound  to  be  great." 

Church  Bells. 

By  the  late  Frederic  Myers. 

Catholic  Thoughts  on  the  Church 

oi  Christ  and  the  Church  of  England.  By  the  late  Rev.  Frederic 
Myers.    With  Marginal  Notes,  &c.     Crown  8vo,  7s.  6d. 

Catholic  Thoughts  on  the  Bible 

and  Theology.  By  the  late  Rev.  Frederic  Myers.  With  Marginal 
Notes,  &c    Crown  8vo,  7s.  6d. 

Extract  from  a  letter  written  by  the  late  Dean  Alford,  and  published  in  his 
Memoirs  : — 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  '  Catholic  Thoughts,'  by  the  late  Mr.  Myers  of  Keswick,  two 
privately-printed  volumes,  one  on  the  Church  of  Christ  and  the  Church  of  England, 
one  on  the  Bible  and  Theology  ?  Very  remarkable,  especially  as  written  1834 — 1848, 
containing  the  largest  views  now  urged  by  any  of  us,  put  out  by  a  devout  Christian 
Churchman  " 


By  G.  A.  Aitken. 


The  Life  of  Sir  Richard  Steele. 

By  G.  A.  Aitken.  With  numerous  Portraits.  Two  Volumes. 
Medium  8vo,  32s. 

"  The  careful  student  will  not  find,  we  believe,  anything  wanting  in  this  Life  which 
it  was  possible  for  the  most  painstaking  research  to  discover  ....  To  know  all 
about  Steele  that  can  be  known  he  must  go  to  Mr.  Aitken." — Spectator. 

"  Rarely,  indeed,  has  a  work  of  biography  issued  from  the  press  showing  a  greater 
desire  for  accurate  information  on  all  points  left  previously  in  doubt,  or  a  better  good 
fortune  in  obtaining  the  facts  which  had  eluded  the  search  of  earlier  inquirers." 

Academy, 

"Every  chapter,  every  page  even,  is  sown  with  the  traces  of  patient  investigation. 
It  will  remain  that,  in  a  plain  and  unaffected  style,  Mr.  Aitken  has  written  a  biography 
of  Richard  Steele  which  is  unsurpassed  for  its  exhaustive  collection  of  material  and 
for  its  patient  pertinacity  of  inquiry." — Saturday  Review. 


By  John  Brown,  P.P. 


John  Bunyan. 

His  Life,  Times,  and  Work.    By  the  Rev.  John  Brown,  D.D., 
Minister  of  the  Bunyan  Meeting,  Bedford.     With  Portrait  and 
Illustrations  by  Whymper.    Fifth  Thousand.    Demy  8vo,  7s.  6d. 
Originvl  Edition,  with  Facsimile  of  Will.    Medium  8vo,  21s. 

"  Mr.  Brown  is  the  first  who  has  produced  a  biography  of  the  immortal  dreamer 
which  is  at  the  same  time  full,  accurate  and  readable." — Athenceum. 
"  It  is  a  work  that  needed  doing,  and  Mr.  Brown  has  done  it  well." 

Saturday  Review. 

"The  work  of  a  highly  cultivated  and  appreciative  spirit  Mr.  Brown  is  the 

successor  of  John  Bunyan,  and  he  is  also  his  most  diligent  biographer,  omitting  no 
research  that  can  illustrate  the  life." — Guardian. 

"  Mr.  Brown  has  produced  the  most  elaborate  and  exhaustive  account  of  Bunyan 
hitherto  published,  and  has,  indeed,  left  no  room  for  a  successor.  He  has  examined 
every  available  source  of  information,  and  has  the  skill  to  use  his  knowledge  to 
produce  a  harmonious  picture." — Spectator. 


By  Margaret  Howitt. 


Mary  Howitt. 

An  Autobiography.  Edited  by  her  Daughter,  MARGARET  Howitt. 
New  and  Cheap  Edition,  with  Portrait  and  all  the  Original  Illus- 
trations.   One  Vol.,  demy  8vo,  10s.  6d. 

"  One  of  the  most  companionable  books  of  our  time.  There  is  a  nameless  charm  in 
holding  converse  with  one  who  has  lived  in  our  own  world,  and  who  can  yet  tell  us 
how  her  mother  met  Dr.  Johnson  and  Miss  Burney ."—  A cademy . 


By  Canon  Row,  P.P. 

Future  Retribution 

Viewed  in  the  Light  of  Reason  and  Revelation.  By  the  Rev. 
Prebendary  C.  A.  Row,  D.D.,  Author  of  the  Bampton  Lectures 
on  "Christian  Evidences,"  &c.  Second  Edition,  Revised,  with 
a  New.  Introduction.    Demy  8vo,  12s. 

"  A  very  valuable  book,  which  will  bring  out  in  a  very  strong  light  to  all  careful 
readers  the  remarkable  discrepancy  between  the  reticence  of  Scripture  and  the  con- 
fidence with  which  ecclesiastical  literature  has  treated  the  subject  We  feel 

very  thankful  to  Mr.  Row  for  stating  the  question  plainly,  and  making  its  direct 
bearing  on  our  faith  in  the  justice  of  God,  as  clear  as  he  does." — Spectator. 

"  Every  reasonable^Christian  would  be  a  gainer  by  reading  this  book." 

Daily  Telegraph 

By  Professor  Schmidt. 

The  Social  Results  of  Early  Chris- 

tianity.  By  Professor  Schmidt,  of  Strasburg.  Translated  by  Mrs. 
Thorpe.  With  an  Introduction  by  R.  W.  Dale,  LL.D.,  of  Bir- 
mingham.   Second  Edition.    Crown  8vo,  7s.  6d. 

11  Done  with  great  minuteness,  wide  reading,  and  literary  skill.  The  argument  is, 
in  its  evidence  and  cogency,  perhaps  the  most  complete  we  have,  and  will  be  in- 
valuable to  the  Christian  apologist." — British  Quarterly  Review. 

By  Rev.  A.  J.  Ross,  P.P. 

Memoir    of    Alexander  Ewing, 

D.C.L.,  Bishop  of  Argyll  and  the  Isles.  By  the  late  Rev.  A.  J. 
Ross,  D.D.    Third  and  Cheaper  Edition.    Demy  8vo,  10s.  6d. 

"  An  admirable  biography  of  a  noble-hearted  and  highly-gifted  man." — Spectator. 
u  Nothing  could  be  finer  than  some  of  the  Bishop's  letters  from  the  continent." 

British  Quarterly  Review 

By  Professor  Montagu  Burrows. 

Wiclif  s  Place  in  History. 

Lectures  delivered  before  the  University  of  Oxford.  By  Prof.  M. 
Burrows.    New  and  Revised  Edition.    Crown  8vo,  3s.  6d. 

"  Specially  fitted  to  make  the  name  of  Wiclif  what  it  should  have  been  several 
generations  ago,  a  household  word  among  us.  .  .  .  Professor  Burrows  gives  us  in 
a  limited  space  such  a  clear,  detailed,  and  comprehensive  presentation  of  Wiclif 
and  his  life,  as  entitles  his  book  to  be  widely  read." — Spectator. 

By  Colonel  W.  F.  Butler. 

Far  Out :  Rovings  Re-told. 

By  Lieut. -Col.  W.  F.  Butler.  New  and  Cheap  Edition.  Crown 
8vo,  5s. 

"  A  book  by  a  British  officer  who,  if  he  had  not  been  otherwise  and  more  actively 
employed,  could  not  only  have  written  all  my  books  about  landscape  and  picture,  but 
is  very  singularly  also  ot  one  mind  with  me  (God  knows  of  how  few  Englishmen  I  can 
say  so  now)  on  matters  regarding  the  Queen's  safety  and  the  nation's  honour." 

Extract  from  Mr.  Ruskin's  Battle  0/  Amiens 


I 


